Hello Past Self, Who Are You?

On a much lighter note than my previous post (because I have to have some balance of funny and serious:). I found this in my book of poetry:

One Wish
I'm sitting here looking out the window
It's so peaceful and serene
As I glance out into the beautiful vacant world
Though it's raining
It's still oh so full of life out there
So free and breezy
I can only imagine the feeling of fresh air
The sky is a mixture of blue and white fluffy clouds
The trees sway with the breeze
Such a soft and gentle sound
I imagine myself as one of those trees
Without a care in the world
For who would dare critisize a tree?
Who would place a tree in one specific social group
Or make it an outcast to all the others?
A tree doesn't have to sit and wiat for its soul mate
It's one true love to come and sweep it off it's feet
It doesn't go through the pains
Of being left out
Not good enough
Or forgotten
As I'm sitting here watching the cool gentleness
Of the world outside
I wish I were a tree

Now, you might be asking yourself why I find this particular piece of work so humorous. It just goes to show that I was an equal opportunist in how I portrayed my animosity in those days, not only to my superiors but also to myself.

I was such a hypocrite, one day fretting over how the world is so cruel and terrible and the next day, looking out the window, seeing all of the beauty that laid before me. Yet, I was still wishing and hoping for more.

I just want to tell this girl to stop taking life so seriously.Stop worrying. Stop wishing you were someone or something else. Stop wanting what you can't have. Just stop.

And the bitch in me wants to tell her, if it were possible for her to be a tree...someone would end up just chopping her down e because she's so annoying and only disturbing the peace within all of the other trees...

In fact. I would be more than happy to do it myself. (And I am a lover of trees).

And the rattlesnake said,
"I wish I had hands so
I could hug you like a man."
And then the cactus said,
"Don't you understand,
My skin is covered with sharp spikes
That'll stab you like a thousand knives.
A hug would be nice,
But hug my flower with your eyes."
 Kimya Dawson