inspiration quot

Imagine there’s billion of people sitting around thinking that life shouldn’t happen this way. Holding their own worlds inside their minds. Creating an imagination of how good life must be.

And then there’s another billion walking throughout the day—working hard just to survive and sleep their exhaustion at night. People who did a cycle they love—and secretly hate at the same time.

But I know you’re thinking that there’s still another billion of people looking for love. Who never surrender on finding and hoping for a romantic relationship that would lasts. People who keep on pushing themselves up just to reach a dream they always wanted from the very start.

There’s also billion of people who are still wondering what they want in life. People who are still trying to figure out which way should they cross. And which place they are going to call home.

Billion of people are loving each other. Sharing moments and making memories they want to remember later on. People who already found someone who they can share their secrets forever.

You see, I am not sure what another billion of people is doing now. Maybe they are asleep and dreaming their hearts out. Maybe they are awake—wondering why happiness doesn’t come at their doors. Maybe they are out there, confused of what they should really do.

And so the last billion—the people who will tell you a lot of things about their experiences. People who can tell you what truly it feels to live, and to die even if you’re still breathing. People who never get tired of telling their stories even if other people think nobody are listening. People who will tell you the wrong things you shouldn’t do, and remind you of the right things you should do. Yet in the end they will end up telling you that you make your own story, so do whatever it is that feels right for you.

I don’t know exactly how many people are here. But I am sure that each— billion—has different stories—to tell , and has the same lessons for them—to share.

—  ma.c.a // I counted all the feelings, And it was not accurate
i try to stay positive through whatever. i try to live up to people’s standards whenever i can. i smile whenever it’s appropriate too, even though i’m only pretending to. i always try to do the “right” thing.. even though many times it really felt like the wrong thing. i try to show up for people. i attempt to show up, and look good, for the person people believe me to be. this person who, i believe, is sacred and supreme. god, isn’t she celestial? isn’t she lovely? i believe they think i’m someone who they wanna be a little something alike. and i think to myself.. “they don’t want this fight.” this mind game. this psyche. looking at shit different these days, like— i might be paying karma it’s last dues.. but i feel like i got too much more to do. i can hear death singing her song in my ear, and boy do her blues sound pretty. like— she really put the time in. she really got me feeling some kind of way. like— could somewhere else be a better place? i get bored too often here. i wanna jump off from here. wanna feel the breeze and see the beauty as i’m falling. then i wanna panic until the parachute rises to catch me. i wanna trust for once. wouldn’t that be the right thing to do? to have faith in something even if there is no landing safely? can’t say i truly even care if i’ll land safely. more concerned if i’ll land alone. see, that’s my issue. needing to be in control. needing to narrate a love story because i was taught that’s all that will ever matter. love. even when, throughout my life, i can’t say that’s what mattered most.
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Reyna Biddy