I Love People

I’M IN IT. I’m doing it, doing me, living life. What does it mean to be me. All these interactions, they make me somebody. And through my actions I decide who that is. And I hope that person’s goofy and enjoying life. That’s me. No matter what it is man.

We have a single choice, to let go and seek the good, or to hold on. It’s not easy, but that’s life. How the hell can we ensure what happens to us? Life is what we do to react. I hope to be joyful, take this in strides, do my best. Why not. I’m so damn lucky. To appreciate that is to treat every day as a gift. Because it is. I could be anyone, and I’m me. I love people, I love to help, to enjoy this ride.

How the fuck did I get so lucky. I don’t get it. And that’s what makes it tough sometimes, knowing how to handle that blessing. I don’t want to feel pain, because it’s beyond me.

And I want others to be out of pain too. I don’t know what we’re here for,

If not each other.

If not trying, with everything we have to make the most out of what we have. To not is to let the gift of life slip away. How can there be no meaning to this; that there isn’t a purpose to every interaction, a reason to treat our connections with love. I know what I want to say, and it’s love.

But I still can’t say it. I can’t tell people why I love them, but I’m getting better. How to break the monotony, the continual motion.

I love people. So much.

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