sometimes when I look back on my childhood and my development, I convince myself I'm a genuinely bad person, as every 17 year old may do.
and then I remember all the times I'd tell random, suicidal strangers on the internet that who cares if I didn't know them? I'd hope they were alive and happy and well in the next 10 years, even if I'd never get to see
and then I remember that no matter what I have never made fun of the homeless, but rather befriended and supported. I have barely grazed homelessness myself and I will never know the struggle the same way they do, and yet I am kind
and then I remember that all through it, I have gone chasing rope ends of every other person I knew that was going through some kind of deep trauma to help them heal and thrive, while handling my own
and isn't that inherently kind? and isn't that never required of anybody but a blessing when someone does it? and haven't I always wanted to be the person I didn't know I needed when I was a horrible child? and look at me now, on my way to becoming exactly that man.
we're just kids. we're all just kids. and we're all forever learning, even up to death. maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself
