If I could remember more. . .

The little things that occur and move me internally have become infinite after the past two days:

being surrounded by your friends and strangers as the clocks ticks past midnight, blowing out candles on the birthday cake with your name on it as they sing "happy birthday" through chaotic cheering and champagne bottles popping

being given anything at all just because someone finds something and thought about you, or has the free drugs to spare, or enjoys seeing you laugh or smile- not just because it's your birthday and that's when you're allowed to give gifts with no questions asked

when authority and the law isn't so relentless in ruining a good time, when a cop takes off their mask and relates as a human instead of a power-hungry pig and gets in his patrol car to drive away after saying, "I remember when I turned 21- chug a few beers for me," and you smile and go do exactly as he says because you can

when a cute, quiet boy is in and out of your sight all night-socializing, smoking, smiling- and then maybe looking at you from across a noisy room, through drunk conversations and careless movements and he winks at you and that wink sails across the room and you smile because you're drunk and honest

having your birthday cake wiped all over your face

wiping it all over that cute, quiet boys face

having your best friend wipe it off yours while you drunkenly ask "can you still see it? is it still there?" and turn your head loosely watching things happen around you

waking up with it in your hair

throwing up in sinks and later denying it because you didn't remember

receiving birthday cards that dance and sing

friends reconnecting and reuniting after a hard time, after not talking or being apart

making out with a good friend because you both were happily drunk and it felt right against hallways and cars

watching the night fade and sun rise and illuminate the trash in your yard and the dirt on your floors

admitting to your best friend that you miss her and want her around more as sunlight catches the ends of her long hair 

hearing songs you used to hear on the radio years before while everyone dances and sings along

smoking cigarettes inside your house because you didn't think about how much you'd regret it the next day

feeling infinite in the amount of love you have for all of your friends and knowing they have it too-

 because moments like these, nights like these, they're infinite in the way they move me and they're unforgettable- if I could remember. 

everything is connected and beautiful

"You are the most connected person I've ever met."

There are over 7 billion people on this earth all with different stories leading different lives in different places. It's remarkable that you could filter through all these individuals and find a pair that may be more similar than you could imagine. And that's the beauty in that, the way we explore and search for people much like ourselves and create a bond even with the ones we share nothing with at all. What's terrifying is that you don't know everyones story- not only can you not read a book by its cover, but you can't read a book that won't open at all- each story is unique.

The best part about this is the interconnections, the invisible wires that tie us all together sometimes without any recognition, until there's discovery- you can be across the country, or at the local grocery store, or a busy airport, and hit one of these wires- you collide into a familiar story. And that familiar story might be your best friend from high school, or the sister of that kid that passed away last year, or the mother of a boy you used to love, or a stranger that smiled to brighten your day, and it's just sort of incredible. If you're feeling lonely or lost, out of place or even estranged, right in front of you is a piece of your story, whether it's part of your past or present. You may not even know this collision could set off this series of events, the little interconnections working their magic and making this story entwine with part of your future.

It's little things like these, little details about our race and lives and relationships that just keep me going forward. Because not everyones story will I benefit from or even feel comfortable with experiencing, but it all ties together into a bigger picture- 

I'm the artist.