and they gave each other a smile with the future in it

Oh! The Places You'll Go

by Dr Seuss

Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?

How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right, or right-and-three-quarters?
Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just

waiting.

oh, what you do to me.

"What is love? As far as I can tell, it is passion, admiration, and respect. If you have two, you have enough. If you have all three, you don't have to die to go to heaven." -William Wharton.

He knows exactly how to make me crack a smile and make me laugh, and can make my day brighter with just the simplest of gestures.

He knows all my secrets, knows me through and through and yet still thinks I'm awesome, and I trust him with all my heart, and I know when I speak, he really does listen.

He simply turns me on, and theres no shame in admitting that.

And I'd be the happiest girl in the world if all three of them would just somehow merge to become one guy.

It is astonishing how little one feels alone when one loves

Ink on paper is as beautiful to me as flowers on the mountains; God composes, why shouldn't we? ~Audra Foveo-Alba

And in my infinite wisdom, I accidentally deleted my tagboard in my overhaulling of my layout haste( too weird looking, this new one, too boring? comment and let me know?), and I am too sleepy to get another one so that will have to wait. I have enabled anyone to comment on my comments tho, so you really dont need to sign in anymore or look for a tagboard to comment, should you wish to.

I've always loved to read.

I am four, and I've just learned to read. Sure, I can't pronounce the words right and I my handwriting is already showing signs of its future atrociousness but I know then there's something about books that captivate me.

I am eight, and I've graduated to my dad's Reader's Digest collection, stretching back to the 1970s. I pore over the stories, and when my brain starts to hurt from too much information, I reach for my Archies. Betty and Veronica never failed me in their familiar simple struggle over Archie.

I am ten, and I have discovered Sweet Valley, Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew, and I insist that my primary school start a library, of which I help set up. I spend hours there and when the books are over, I wonder perhaps if we could get more. It has only been a week, my teacher in charge
informs me wryly, and I really should stop this speed reading.

Tentatively, hesitatingly, I start, not for school, not for anyone, but for me, to write.

I win awards for my writing.

I am twelve, and I have discovered Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Animorphs,Lord of The Rings, Anne Frank. I am lost in new worlds.

I am pulled by the power of the written word.

I discover the Internet and my writing finds an entirely new audience, even in 2001.

Being a pompous thing, I start to write my own book.

I am seventeen and have put my books away.

I am eighteen and rediscover books through Maeve Binchy and Jane Green, amongst others. I wonder how I could have forgotten about books, and regret the year lost.

I am twenty one.

And I have looked through old boxes. I have found remains of that book the twelve year old me started writing, and I have read it, and am astonished to realise how even written at twelve and being only three chapters long, it is not bad. Sure, I somehow mispelled some words here and there, and my grammar could be better.

But the notes are there, the idea is there and I have a vague idea how I wanted to 'finish' it.

It is not bad at all and I wonder if I should dare dream to ever finish it, or really, if it should remain entirely that. Nothing but a dream.

guide me/ lead me, follow me/ run by me, or get out of my way

Do not reveal to friends all the secrets you possess; they may one day become enemies. Do not inflict on enemies every injury in your power; they may one day become friends.
-Sadi, "Gulistan"

I can't even begin to tell you how sad this quote makes me, but its definite food for thought. Strange, right? Youd think I would agree with a quote I put up there, but I disagree with it thoroughly.

I disagree with not trusting your friends with your all and I disagree with the reasoning that you shouldnt cause injury to others just because one day they could be your friends. You should be kind irregardless.

You'd expect me, after years of living on this earth, of navigating social circle upon social circle, to be able to tell when someone is sincere when they extend a hand of friendship or not, to be able to tell apart one who really wished you well from one who would go on to your enemies and tell them all the sad tales about your existence, withholding the beautiful happy parts, just because it makes them feel better about their own lives.

It was heartwrenching for me when I was younger, to share with someone, and then realise much later from unlikely sources that my secrets and the superficial details of my life have become used as fuel and fodder for conversations, the minute details twisted and turned until the original story has become almost fabrication.

In this day and age, its no wonder everyone of us doesnt have their very own publicist, really.

So, you'd think the best solution would be for most of us to hold our secrets to our hearts, right? Not sharing our all, in fear of what damage the information may do to us.

I dont agree and I pray you don't live your life by that.

SO, dont trust ANYONE?

Aha.

Anyone in love or loving can tell you that while we're never so vulnerable as when we trust someone, at the same time if we cannot trust, neither can love or joy be found by us.

So maybe now I word vomit once in a while to an unlikely source. And I hope that they will guard my secrets. But if they dont, thats okay too. Because in that space of time, when we were almost one, I considered them my friend.

Perhaps one should become at peace with whatever it is one would consider so secret that it could cause one injury should it become enemy's knowledge. Unless youre running for politics, and your skeletons in the closet could very well be anothers admiring and/or jealous glance.

As for not inflicting on anyone injury NOT because they could one day become your friend, I think you should be doing it for your own sake, for the sake of being kind.

Causing injury to someone, physically, mentally, emotionally, just because you CAN, thats revolting, and you should be kind not just to spare yourself future pain, but to spare them present pain.

Even if you think they deserved it or not, because at the end of the day, who are you to judge?