There’s an experiment that evenly applies to any creature who absorbs life in all of its shallow aspects. 

The experiment involves a grasshopper and a jar. The grasshopper, after countless attempts of escape, eventually gives into the idea that it will never get out of the tightly capped jar. The tester then removes the lid, providing an easily visible exit, but the grasshopper does not leave. 

The grasshopper, now completely calm, is convinced that despite the obvious opening, there is no possible way of getting out of the jar due to its memories, pain, and experience from the past attempts and inevitable clash with the cap. 

I think that humans are a lot like that, too. Our consistency is indomitable to the extent where we gradually reach incomparable exhaustion. At that point, it doesn’t matter if the door is held open, the hand is given to get back up, or if the finish line is an inch away, we are locked onto what has occurred in the past which we believe will hinder us from reaching the goals that are already within easy grasp.

I tell you that I will drop my walls because I promised that I wouldn’t be a hypocrite, but darling, there were never any walls in the first place. The finish line was always there, the door held wide open, the friendly hand to be grasped. The walls that stand before you were constructed from new experiences of pain, new lessons, and new realizations. There was no lid on the jar in the beginning, but the grasshopper remained all this time, simply because of its desire to be locked in. A reverse transition of the state of mind. 

Now isn’t that a twist on a shallow aspect of freedom? 

fairynamedlarry:

Why is it so hard just to take the leap of faith.

You know, it’s been a while, but I think after all this time..

I’ve finally found you. 

I once met a girl who wrote in permanent marker because she never feared mistakes since she despised the idea of “cut and paste”.

A girl who loved building her own walls, but knocking down the barriers of others. The same girl who had a voice that could bring chills of joy and make you shudder. 

She reminded me that “actions spoke louder than words”, but words were all I knew. I painted with analogies, and rhymed with colloquies .. but she wanted actions. 

Actions that I did my best to show, but these weren’t the actions that she wanted and the walls around her trust would close.

It took me nearly a year, but I finally figured it out. 

She could care less about flowers, teddy bears, or boxes of chocolate. She didn’t care about my abnormal submissiveness, nor did she care for the worry I always maintained when she was out. She requested that if I loved her, I would show it through my actions. So there are no more words to speak, no more poems to recite, and no more essays to deliver.

I need to show that I am a better person with her by my side and in my mind. No promises are necessary, just watch this time. 

I have this obsession with titles. I suppose it was to sustain my ego, but it became frustrating when people still belittled me for all that I’ve worked for. 

One day, I blurted out, “How can people still put me down with all these titles and achievements to my name? Are they honestly that belligerent to challenge my ideals? I just want to show everyone that I am worth looking up to despite what people say. Why don’t people realize that?”

And with one simple sentence my closest friend Chris responded with, “You’re trying to be the hero of your own story, and everyone else is doing the same.” 

I’m going to try to describe my perspective of a summer vibe. 

I used to leave the house in the early mornings - 4am or 5 am- and head off with a group of my friends and we would either go jogging or hiking around Etiwanda Preserve, which would always end with breakfast. We would do thee most spontaneous things during my Junior to Senior year summer. Swimming, running, drives-to-nowhere, star-gazing.. there were no limits to our activities.

But during these mornings or late evenings, while blasting Blu&Exile or NAK or Revolutionary rhythm, there would be this morning crisp. It was this chill, but it would have this fresh smell to it, too. The sun would barely be grazing the mountain ranges and horizon, transforming the night sky into a gorgeous blue. 

So when I compare you to the freshness of a summer morning, understand that I am comparing you to indescribable adventure, happiness, and freedom. 

To the moon and back.