and i get caught in the day to day of life
and think that i am all these other things
but underneath all of the things i do,
all of the things i write
all of the i’s i say
i am not any of that.

who am i? who are you?
who is the observer watching it all play out?

last night we went to a movie
and the projector shined a light
onto white screen
and images appeared
and we got sucked right into the story.
we feel in love as they feel in love
we felt bad for one guy,
shocked that another would do what he did
sad for the woman who gave up the one who loved her
for the fantasy she wanted
and none of it was real.
it was just light shining on a white screen.

how real is the life i am living
the one that makes me scared to show up,
or that aggravates me or frustrated me,
that one in which i think i am not good enough
or strong enough and capable of overcoming
what so many other “movies” have not been able to overcome.

this is my story
i get to create it
and i can make it just the way i want it to be.
because i am way more than who i think i am.


who are you?
what are your thoughts?