i want to ask the happiest person in the world whether it was worth it, all the sacrifices he made in order to become so happy. … faq.
“dear god,” she prayed,
“let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.
let me be gay;
let me be sad.
let me be cold;
let me be warm.
let me be hungry…
have too much to eat. … let me be
permit yourself to flow and overflow.
when you’re a kid, you color with reckless abandon.
// you color outside the lines.
// you color however you feel.
green oceans —
it’s all good.
as you get older, though, everyone tells you to stay inside the lines,
to color everything just like you see it.
you end up painting by numbers¹²³ —
whether you actually paint — or — whether you write — or — sing — or —
dance — or — act — or — direct.
// i think you should create what you feel //
// create outside the lines //
i want to watch green oceans and red bears.
i’d love to listen to purple trees.
and i long to read blue elephants.
not anyone who says, “i’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “i’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible … not anyone who says
everyone now and again wonders about
those questions that have no ready
answers: first cause, god’s existence,
what happens when the curtain goes
down and nothing stops it, not kissing,
not going to the mall, not the super
“wild roses,” i said to them one morning.
“do you have the answers? and if you do,
would you tell me?”
the roses laughed softly. “forgive us,”
they said. “but as you can see, we are
just now entirely busy being roses.”