Now, of course, this is easy to say.
Then again, words are only words,
unless you mean them.
For example, take the words, “I love you,”
or the words “You mean everything to me.”
These words mean everything,
unless they mean nothing.
These words have the ability to heal, uplift,
build and repair the soul.
Or, they can do the opposite
and tear us apart – it all depends.
Our words are everything
and, then again, sometimes
words are just words.
The difference in a word
is the depth or commitment or otherwise,
the true meaning of a word
is equal to the math of our actions
plus intentions, which equal the truth
or otherwise knows as our sincerity
(or integrity).
Our worth determines value
and our investments determine
how much we give, use, devote
or expect in return.
The people in our lives are investments.
All of them are.
Some of our investments are long-term.
Others are short-term.
Some are winners.
And some are not.
Sometimes we go all in
and then we come up short.
Other times we invest wisely or hardly at all.
And sometimes, there are people
who come along in our life
and change our perspective.
These are the people who share the same frequency.
These can be lifelong friends or friends who we just met
and yet, to us, these are better than family
and better than the lifelong friends.
There are the people who “get it.”
These are the people who help us build
when we feel destroyed.
They are the ones who know what to say,
when to say it and, even more,
these are the people who know
when to say anything at all –
instinctively or intrinsically.
There are people in our life
who keep us young and, on the other side,
there are people in our life that age us
or make us gray – and,
there is a split in the road; as in a choice
as in, we have a choice who we choose to speak to
or invest in or live with.
I once heard someone say, “Six million ways to die.”
Choose one . . .
So, I thought this meant something to me
and at the time, maybe this did mean something
Then again, I was on a different frequency back then.
I was a different person.
I was younger then, but older in some ways.
I was crazy but more sane than now and
here I am, closing in on the 50th year of my life.
I’m young in some ways, new, refreshed,
and though I am currently the oldest
that I’ve ever been – there has been a revelation
and while late in life,
I realize maybe the saying should be
six million ways to live. Choose one.
Maybe there’s more than six million ways.
Maybe there are infinite ways to live (or die)
and maybe the fact remains
that as long as there is breath in our lungs;
maybe we can move, pick up, change
and go left or go right.
There’s no law that says we can’t change
or that we have to stay the same.
Then again,
there’s no law that says we have to change.
But dig it; it’s easy to say something like this.
It’s easy to say anything; unless you mean it.
There are people at the verge of rebirth.
There are people who are at the cusp of a change
and people who are at the close of a chapter
yet they’re afraid to turn the page
because they don’t know what comes next.
Then come the words
from the people or the person who matters the most.
They are the people who’ve invested in you,
the same as you’ve invested in them.
They are the ones who let you know
It’s okay. You’re not alone.
I don’t know when or
if my frequency has changed or
if I still march to the same beat
or if I am better or worse,
older or younger.
All I know is that I am at the verge of a change.
I know there are more than six million ways
I can choose to live or die.
And that’s just for today.
This means the calculations
for the rest of my life can be limitless
(if I choose not to limit myself).
I know there are more than
7 billion people in this world. In which case,
I am bound to disagree with some.
I’m bound to dislike some.
Yet, there are so many people in this world
in which the question remains:
Why spend time
worrying or wondering about them?
There’s countless opportunities
to be happy elsewhere –
it’s all a choice.
I know there’s a lot of hate in the world
Maybe this was me for a long time.
Hateful. Frustrated. Angry.
I get it,
Or, then again,
maybe this was just a case of my investments.
Maybe I woke up one day
and I realized
that if I can hate that much
then I can love this much too.
Maybe I realized that the depth of my hate
can equal the span of my love –
which means I have the capacity to go either way.
Maybe I just grew tired of the daily aggression.
Maybe I’m tired of caring what people think
or who likes me
Maybe I grew tired from the lack of return.
I’m tired of fighting. And tired of the hate,
which can be dominant sometimes.
I invest differently now:
in my words, in my people,
and in myself.
(I sigh and exhale)
I don’t know what I’ll see today.
And neither do you.
Then again, it’s only 4:30 in the morning.
The day has just begun.
Sunlight has yet to show its face and me,
I’m on my way out the door
and getting ready to make a change
(in me)
The Written Addiction 