‹ Prequel: In the Month of May
One-Hundred Days
Day Fifty-Eight: Lessons
These lessons learned in life are learned with heavy hearts and empty minds. The lessons burned into our minds and hearts at a young age to never trust another who society doesn’t deem normal. These lessons are taught to us at such a young age that we know nothing else, and therefore we live out our life believing these things are such the supports of the universe.
The lessons we must learn though, are the ones that only we can teach ourselves. These lessons are taught to us through heartache and strife, through our lives crumbling at our feet and being forced to piece them back together. These lessons are learned through everything but sitting inside society’s walls and listening to what they want you to hear. We must learn our own lessons, lessons of heartache and loyalty and love and life. We must learn our own lessons through our lives and the people who make them special.
Lessons cannot be taught inside of a classroom, cinderblock walls and small quarters suffocating each person stuck inside. Lessons cannot be taught through documentaries, through textbooks, through homework. Lessons are life, and therefore can only be learned through living like we’ll all die tomorrow in an explosion of colours never seen before by man. Lessons are writing each emotion we have ever felt down onto paper, writing things we do not even know, but believe in. Lessons are loving and losing. Lessons are letting go the people who mean the most, because how are we supposed to know how much they mean if we never let them out of our lives?
Lessons are living, living through the strife and broken bones. Our aching hearts and swollen lungs, black eyes and bleeding noses, walking through the streets in the middle of the night. We have learned our lessons well, and have attempted to show others how we have learned, how we have lived.
We learn our lessons wisely, through loving without holding back one bit of ourselves or our hearts, no matter how badly we have been hurt in the past. We learn our lessons by treating every love as our first and our last, and by treating every second awake as a second spent dreaming with our eyes wide open. We will never stop dreaming and we will never stop living, because we have our lessons written into our palms and we keep them close to our beating hearts. We will never stop dreaming because we will never stop learning.
We have learned our lessons well, and now we must let others find their own way to learning their own lessons.
Let us only hope they learn them well.
The lessons we must learn though, are the ones that only we can teach ourselves. These lessons are taught to us through heartache and strife, through our lives crumbling at our feet and being forced to piece them back together. These lessons are learned through everything but sitting inside society’s walls and listening to what they want you to hear. We must learn our own lessons, lessons of heartache and loyalty and love and life. We must learn our own lessons through our lives and the people who make them special.
Lessons cannot be taught inside of a classroom, cinderblock walls and small quarters suffocating each person stuck inside. Lessons cannot be taught through documentaries, through textbooks, through homework. Lessons are life, and therefore can only be learned through living like we’ll all die tomorrow in an explosion of colours never seen before by man. Lessons are writing each emotion we have ever felt down onto paper, writing things we do not even know, but believe in. Lessons are loving and losing. Lessons are letting go the people who mean the most, because how are we supposed to know how much they mean if we never let them out of our lives?
Lessons are living, living through the strife and broken bones. Our aching hearts and swollen lungs, black eyes and bleeding noses, walking through the streets in the middle of the night. We have learned our lessons well, and have attempted to show others how we have learned, how we have lived.
We learn our lessons wisely, through loving without holding back one bit of ourselves or our hearts, no matter how badly we have been hurt in the past. We learn our lessons by treating every love as our first and our last, and by treating every second awake as a second spent dreaming with our eyes wide open. We will never stop dreaming and we will never stop living, because we have our lessons written into our palms and we keep them close to our beating hearts. We will never stop dreaming because we will never stop learning.
We have learned our lessons well, and now we must let others find their own way to learning their own lessons.
Let us only hope they learn them well.