Echo, Echo send me a sign what shall I do with all this time
Sometimes I look at things
And feel left out
My brain has this glitch
Like I’m not a part of it
So I’m nothing
But it’s not true
I’m not a part of it
And I don’t have to be
I don’t have to hate it
Because I’m not
I don’t have to love it
I need to practice
Seeing what I am apart of
Because those spaces are often
exactly right for me
And when they’re not
I hope I find the courage to leave
I think all of this has to do with the feeling
of missing something
Of limitations
And losing
But how can we lose
When we’re not playing a game?
The only competitions are in our mind
And we’re only competing if we willingly enter into competition
It’s silly to want what anyone else has
Metaphorically speaking….
Well maybe not so metaphorically
like I can agree air fryers are cool and sometimes our best friends have really cozy blankets or cool stain glass lights
But what I think my head is getting at is that
Someone having a blanket
A trip
A date
A steady hand
A happiness
does not mean that there is not your own version of that somewhere out there in the universe
And you might not be at a basketball game or at a mind-boggling exhibit in a foreign city today
But sitting in your living room quietly watching snowflakes float down from the sky is its own little world of excitement
After all, l I live with my friend, luna, the cat
And I’m learning very helpful things in the book I’m reading
I’m making better lists
Feeling more than running
And one day it’s going to mean something for me
I know there are a hundred examples to discount the exact right place at the right time
I know horrible things happen
And I can’t rationalize or explain them
Not even the ones I personally experience
I don’t know why people choose darkness
Or to turn away from light
But I’m still going to try and have compassion for them
Even if they never really understand me
Even if I come off differently
Even if I can never be louder than the made-up “brain breaking” version of me that exists in their minds
All those words
All those statements I hear about myself that don’t feel true
I hope I let them go
I hope I stop comparing myself and my actions to them
I hope I stop fearing falling into the wrong box or the wrong mold
I’m a very specific person with specific feelings, specific language, specific magic
And my specific frequency Is heard, it’s echoed
across the universe
In books, art, psychology, and my greatest friends
I’ve always thought it a miracle when I meet someone who sees me as I see myself and more
It was a miracle because of fighting how my family has seen me
But oddly enough six months, one week, an email, the first line of a bio on a website is enough to hear your own frequency echoed back at you.
It was enough for them
And I don’t know
I don’t know enough to say this outside of elementary metaphors but
I think if people are like that
Than there has to be an echo in places, events, and things too
And I hope we listen harder for it
I think what keeps people
from doing the things they want to
is all the noise
That stops us from hearing our voice