I am forgetful.
I forget the things I just said or thought.
I forget the moments that are pivotal to others, but not to me.
I forget some people I’ve met and grew up with.

but I never forget the words that stung me, the words that healed me, the words that made me grow.
I never forget the people who changed me and helped me mold myself to who I am now.
I never forget who I am and who I want to be.

I keep it in my heart, deep within my mind, the things I want to remember unconsciously drifting about inside my head.



“I am confident, and then I am not.
I am brave, and then I am not.
I am kind, but am I always?”

I feel my passion pulsating through my veins, it yearns to be fulfilled.
But how am I to do so, if I am not always who I want myself to be?
Always dreaming never living.
Only sometimes does the girl walk on the pathway.
The meadows seemed to call out to her, there she is safe, she is confident, she is brave, and always kind.



Seedlings sprout when you water them and nourish them.
Plants grow when you take good care of them and shower them with love and care.
Only then will they bear the fruits of your labor in return.

Like children, we should always encourage them, no matter how crazy their dreams may be in the beginning, we never know unless we give them a chance, right?

Your words are like blades that cut down the ropes they use to fly their kites that hold their dreams.
Choose them wisely before it’s too late and the buds you so carefully sowed, wilt away.