I am lost
in places I’ve yet to visit, people I’ve yet to meet, parts of this small, but huge world I’ve yet to touch.
I am found
in the minuscule nano-seconds between each shot of every movie scene ever made, in the way each cut is purposeful and exact and makes meaning that didn’t exist before.
I am fascinated
by the intricate web of connecting, crossing, interwoven stories that make up our lives and how they all seem to touch one another in the most fitting and perfect ways.
I am in love
with a boy whose eyes change colors every day, whose smile lights me up, sets me on fire and lets me burn into a better version of myself.
I am happiest
when I’m laughing so hard it hurts, when the music is loud enough to pump through my veins, when the sunlight catches in the air and makes me stop and wonder.
I am a believer
that all stories exist in some other place, some other world or reality, and all the pieces are out there for the right people to find and sew together with carefully chosen words and punctuation.
I am a collection
of frozen moments and fleeting ideas and thoughts and beautiful memories that my simple dictionary of words can never seem to describe.
I am more
than spotted leopards and circuses only open at night, more than dreams within dreams and mysterious midnight walks in Paris, more than the swinging notes of jazz, and more than the sound of a baseball soaring off a bat and into the air.
I am written
carefully, into the small spaces and pauses between the letters that make up the words sprinkled across pages of countless notebooks dictating my history, my story.
I am made
by the glowing skyline of a city that meets the radiant colors of a country sunset, by the moments of breathless wonder when the sea skims my toes or the cold bites my cheeks, by the perfect contradictions of my world.
I am broken
in all the right places, and I have molded and glued the shards together into something better, something I can be proud of.
I am alive
in the exhilarating moments when I forget that I’m living at all.