This weekend, I went to Hong Kong to experience the gay pride parade. It was beautiful to feel the energy from people shamelessly proclaiming their pride and belief in justice in love, sexuality and identity. It felt amazing to be able to support so many of my friends in this monumental event. Love is life,and life is free.
“i can’t believe we’re growing up like this”
While having a conversation with my best friend today about our experiences over the past few years, we laughed almost to the point of tears at things at some of the things we had once before just shed tears with no laughter about not long ago. From relationships, lack thereof, scandalous moments of self-expression as evolving young women, nights doused with harsh college alcoholic beverages and moments of abstract thoughts and creativity induced by herbs, we have a ton of memories between the two of us. Earlier this afternoon, here we were, texting away at each other on opposite sides of the world, bonding over editing articles and reminiscing.
In those times of void of care for anything safe but full compassion for our own and each other’s freedom, we were liberated in our mistakes and shaky decision making. Living in the moment, costs us a few things but the gain was so much more precious here in the future. In retrospect, everything we ever did with one another was enabled by the yearn and burn to just be. And at the time, we knew exactly how much fun we were having.
Living is more than the wildness of youth, however, it shouldn’t be discredited as a vital part of our stories. When you look back, decades from the point where you stopped being wild and unruly and got some sense about yourself, you will either forget all of those things you did or you’ll remember them and feel a small inkling of the rush you got from just saying “f-ck it, lets go” with your best friend by your side.
Within a year or two comes so much more growth, better decision making, early bed times, less parties and the thrilling trifles of the days that have passed now add even more color to your retrospect.
We were so busy living, we never tried to imagine the day when she would say, “i can’t believe we’re growing up like this.”
writers block …
zen and pens. 