Opening Eyes

Oh, sweet coffee.

Yesterday after work, I went out to Sophia’s for pizza and beer. We have both been kind of busy at work lately, and haven’t had much time during the day to talk. We sat on her back patio and caught up, and talked about my new venture some. For the record, the first submission hasn’t been approved yet – it hasn’t been denied though, either. Maybe today. Maybe today I can start doing this writing for money thing.

That being said, while I had started yesterday’s quote post during breaks at work throughout the day, I hadn’t finished it. So I didn’t sit down with Rosalyn until 930pm to finish it. I spent over two hours on those words, wanting to convey what I needed to say about my friend. I was also nervous during the final editing process because she wanted to read it. I couldn’t remember many specifics about that time in my life. It wasn’t an easy chapter. It was a chapter filled with uncertainty, and I did a lot of self discovery during it. But I did remember her, and how she seemed to be an anchor through the storm. Remember what I said the other day – people don’t remember you for what you did, they remember you for how you made them feel. This was a prime example of that.

So I published the post at 1145pm, and sent it to her. I showered and put the pizza I had brought home for Matthew in the fridge, smoked a final cigarette, posted a final photo to the facebook page, and laid my tired ass down. It was pushing 1am by this time. I had been up since 530am.

And laid there, awake.

I probably fell asleep closer to 2am, and then my alarm started its bullshit again at 530am again. I turned it off and fell back asleep for twenty minutes or so, and then forced myself out of bed. This was my own fault, I knew staying up so late was not a good idea. I have to treat this like a job, and I can’t slack. Slackers don’t make their dreams come true, I reminded myself.

So like three hours of sleep. That’s cool. Today better not be super clusterfucky.

Anyway, though. I woke to a heartfelt message from my friend again, and a tag in a public post she put on Facebook, where she had shared my post.

the weird thing about being Muslim is that it comes along with a whole bunch of misconceptions and sometimes you can’t tell who is open to being cool with the scarf on your head or the fact you can’t order bacon… but what’s even cooler is that you get an opportunity to find out. and, in finding out, we make connections that are, as I consider them, Divine, even if they change in depth or frequency. a woman I worked with when I was in college who was more than a coworker, but definitely a source of comfort and laughter as well as a friend, wrote this about me today. am I crying? yes. but that’s besides the point. I’m not big on receiving compliments – or criticisms for that matter – but the compliments that make me feel the best are those that are in relation to something I thought went unnoticed. this is proof that the little kindnesses and the conversations stick with people longer than we realize. thank you, Amber. not only for the compliment, but for being open to others and having a curiosity about differences. there’s no other way to get through this crazy time.

Once again, I was touched by her words.

And when I logged into WordPress to check my stats, I was absolutely in shock at the views. Over forty people had read it! That’s the most I’ve had in a very, very long time. I returned her message and thanked her for the share, and she informed me she had shared it elsewhere, too.

You really never know how much of an impact you can have on someone. I’m so glad that she received it positively, and as I told her – if it can open some eyes, that’s all I could hope for – Other than her approval. If she had hated it I probably would have been crushed.

I’ve heard more than once, “Your post made me cry.” I’ve also heard that my words are ‘raw’. I couldn’t imagine being anything other than genuine in my art, and truth be told, I often cry while I write. My words are raw sometimes because they cut me like a knife as they exit my mind. I have some very unlikely followers. I’ve been approached by people I know that I never in a million years thought read my work, and they are full of compliments. I don’t take this gift for granted. I want to touch people, I want to make people stop and think for a second. I want to open eyes and break down barriers. I want to make a fucking difference. I know all that is in my head and in my heart, and I want people to know that it’s okay to have feelings and thoughts that are raw, and share your real self with people. We each are unique and beautiful in our own way – why not be a little vulnerable and share that with the world? You’re the only one who sees the world through your eyes. If I can share what I see with others through my words and open their eyes or make them feel something, help them improve their world view. . . If I can make them cry a little, I’m doing all I want to do. To evoke feelings and create new thoughts, to help open someones mind and heart a little. . . yeah. I think that’s my goal here.

I needed something different from Hyro yesterday, and flipped through my options on my internet radio as I drove out to Sophia’s last night. From my standard rock station, to a station I created filled with women rockers – Dorothy, The Pretty Reckless, Halestorm, Evanescence and ZZ Ward is the focus of this station. Nothing was catching my attention. This morning Godsmack’s Bulletproof came on as my coffee brewed, and I knew I needed more of that in my life. I settled on a Godsmack station, and let that carry me through my morning. I am somehow going to get through this day on the little sleep I have, and knowing that I brightened a dear friend’s life a little with my words and hopefully opened a few eyes. Happy Thursday, ya’ll. I hope it’s a good one.