Seems like the inspiration is coming back.
Well every once in a while it's here with me,
but I have begun to ignore it,
with me thinking and saying it's such a waste of time
in writing here.
Becoming very cold with the thought of it, really.
I was very wrong.
I find writing to be a very much of a stress reliever.
Especially when knowing I have no such as an interesting hobby.
It's heartwarming. In a way.
I have been going through lots of stress.
School and assignments,
old friends who don't seem to bother and care anymore.
Especially.
It's sad.
Very sad to know they don't care anymore,
or whether they did from the very beginning.
It is useless in trying
or believing in
'relieving' stress with drinking
or smoking.
The pain would go away for sometime,
but it would come again
and still be there.
After this time, yes.. I sort of got over all this drama.
And now I realise what real friends are.
I have such great friends now,
that I would really do anything for them.
After all, life is too short..
not 'not to be boring' or 'not to have fun' as some say,
I would rather say it my way:
"Life is too short to
spend time with people
who sucked
the happiness out of you"
I have found the friends which I really needed
from the very beginning. And help building me up,
while I help building themselves up whenever they need a helping hand.
No more head banging situations which
I could have handled on my own,
I have them, who will to join me
and making me feel better
and help me overcome obstacles
which I and we all face during sometime or another.
And I thank them.
Very much.
I'm not so close to end up on my own anymore.
Two years knowing them.
Two years of having such great times together.
They are friends of mind.
They gather me.
The pieces I am, they gather them
and give them back to me..
in all the right order.
It's good, you know.
Great friends, whom we speak on anything.
Not afraid of the judging and whatsoever.
Apart from all this, I have learned from Henri Nouwen's words:
When we honestly ask ourselves
which person in our lives mean the most to us,
we often find that it is those who,
instead of giving advice,
solutions, or cures,
have chosen rather to share our pain
and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.
The friend who can be silent with us
in a moment of despair or confusion,
who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement,
who can tolerate not knowing,
not curing, not healing and
face with us the reality of our powerlessness,
that is a friend who cares.
~Henri Nouwen
You might be wondering of what the title has to do with this post.
Well, simple.
People change, just like the seasons do.
Keeping it in mind,
just in case..
..for future reference.
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