016: more than words

Hello you,

You are more than written words on a page; a sequence of keystrokes do not depict your whole story, your whole persona.

You are not confined to the repertoire of SAT words you’ve picked up over the years; your essence is not limited to a pithy response to the passerby inquiry of “how are you?”

You think your presence can be contained like a message-in-a-bottle, tossed out into the vastness of reality until some stranger somewhere happens upon it, with fingers crossed that it means something to them when they do.

Well I hope you know it does mean something, and that stranger is very thankful for you.
Your extraordinary, spectacular, elusive, fascinating, wondrous being, is appreciated.

Sincerely, Lou

026: your average macbook

Hello you,

I wish I could be more like my desktop. All thoughts are organized, all emotions compartmentalized.
I wish that the hardest decisions I’d ever have to make are just coming up with clever folder names.
I wish that pending tasks and ongoing to-do’s could easily be dragged into an unlimited number of new tabs.
I wish that disappointments could be dropped into the trash bin, without even thinking twice when hitting the “Empty Trash” button.
I wish I could change the persona I project to the world as easily as I update my wallpaper.
I wish achieving the next goal on my dream board could be as simple as hitting a couple of keyboard commands.
I wish that when I needed a break, I could decisively just shut down, restart, and feel as good as new.

But I get why I’m not like my desktop. Life just wouldn’t be as fun if that were the case - and I’m glad.

I’m a living, breathing being, and troubleshooting when I’m in trouble is not an option. Almost nothing about me is calculated, my soul is not password protected. And I sure am glad that my quirks can’t be identified from reading a manual.

Where’s the fun in that?

Sincerely, Lou

029: light

Hello you,

I want to exude compassion. I hope for people to know that I will run any and all red lights when it comes to being a helping hand or a listening ear. That their troubles could never be too trivial to stop me from being by their side until the the worries are gone, or when they at least take a backseat.

I want people to feel like they don’t have to come up with the shortest, least-alarming response when I ask them “How is life treating you today?” I hope that they feel comfortable enough to release the raw, unedited version of their answers, just like how I aspire to answer those inquiries, too.

I want to scream words of affirmation into the hearts of those who think they are alone, and maybe my screams will be loud enough that the glass case where their insecurities are put on display will shatter, along with the acknowledgment that these insecurities even existed in the first place.

I just want to be a light, like the Light who is teaching me how to be.

Sincerely, Lou

031: THE TOUGHEST CRITIC

Hello you,

Lately I’ve been finding myself easily frozen in fear. There has been this constant reminder that people are watching, judging, criticizing, concluding, after every move I make - a reminder that I can’t shake loose no matter how hard I try.

I have been starving for affirmation, yearning for even a sliver of assurance that I’m not a complete and total mess. But the only voice I hear is an endless loop of “that’s not good enough, you’re not good enough.”

It seems like the thing I’m most successful at doing is conveying that while I fail, I am capable of picking myself up from the bootstraps. Even when deep down I just don’t think I really am.
What do you do when it feels like the best thing you have to offer is a disheartened shrug followed by radio silence?

I keep trying I guess. At least until I can break through the static and white noise, because maybe, just maybe, someone will hear I am worth something.

And I sure hope that someone is me.

Sincerely, Lou