Friend

How long is a friend a friend
when they don’t treat you like one?
Is friendship simply perseverance and forgiveness?
What makes a friend?
Where does friendship end?

A friend is someone who sees the good and the bad
and knows when to let it be known
without bias or selfishness,
simply because they have your best interests in mind.
Someone who sees you over time
and wants you to succeed
in the ways that make you happy.
Who will back you up enough
to ease a situation’s weight,
without disregarding morality or courtesy,
without misleading,
without doing wrong to supposed enemies
or speaking ill of those targets of unease.

How long is a friend a friend?
Until a human decides that humans are not for them.
What makes a friend a friend?
Where does friendship end?

Mental Travel Prepping

I wrote the below to myself back in January as I was mentally preparing for a solo trip to Australia.

If my mind is right and my actions are focused, I will be ok. Walk the line between action and inaction. Know when to speak up and when to be quiet. Adapt. Interpret carefully and be easy. Smile. Listen as much as possible. Try to understand the people you are unfamiliar with. Don’t endanger yourself. Be cautious. Be slow. Don’t get too drunk. Try to relax. Get cozy in a strange land. Don’t expect too much of yourself. Don’t expect too much of others. Realize you’re human. Don’t expect too much of yourself. Have fun. Remember the universe is all one being, and all of our problems are each other’s problems. We should always try to help. We are all connected to each other. The self is an illusion, we’re all only as good as each other. Laugh a little bit but not too much. Be light on stories unless someone asks you. Try to find your true nature, whatever that is. Be yourself. Learn to surf and ride the fucking wave.

The Coffee That Never Was

A short story by Erick, inspired by true events 🙂

They didn’t tell her it would be like this. All the years of it took to get here. And now… there she sat, waiting.

It was as if every step of her life made sense right up until that point. But then, nothing happened. Boredom. Doubt. The moment she’d waited for all her life. Where did she go wrong? Maybe she should have stayed with her mother. But she didn’t really have a choice when the creatures removed her.

She just did the best she could. There were times where she thought her life was over. She somehow survived excruciatingly painful flames in that dark, dingy place. Then they kept her for weeks in a tight container with no light or fresh air. She somehow still kept it together when the blades ground her up into a million tiny pieces and even found some pleasure in it. It almost felt like she was becoming who she was supposed to be. And then when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, they forced her into a steaming hot water bath that scolded her inside and out.

After all these tests, she emerged, a beautiful cup of coffee, much in the sense that a precious jewel is forged from years of pressure between rough elements. She felt invincible. And then slowly she began to realize no one was coming. As she cooled off, questions began to enter her mind: “Why am I here? Is it just for the creatures? If so why, have they liquified me? What purpose does it serve if they’re just going to leave me here?” And there she sat, pondering what she had done wrong. No one came. She soon became cold and lonely. She lost track of time. How long had she been here?

She gave up hope. When all seemed lost, the creature picked her up. She had heard a myth that the creatures liked to torture and drink her kind. “Who are you?”, “Why are you doing this to me?!”, she shouted. But the creature couldn’t hear her. Soon she was heading down a small tube. Where she felt herself come into contact with something else. Another liquid substance. Slowly she felt herself drifting apart. She now knew what her purpose was. To do exactly what she had done. And follow the path right to this very moment, where she was no longer coffee, but disintegrating into part of a larger whole. Her molecules spread amongst the molecules of others and she ceased to exist at that moment, her last gasp filled with contentedness.

Humans Are Meant to Create

If you do not express your own original ideas, if you do not listen to your own being, you will have betrayed yourself. – Rollo May

The act of highest honor in life is creation. Every time we create, we step closer towards self-actualization. It is up to each of us to explore this world, seek out the works of those who have come before us, and expand on it with our own vision.

Whether running a business, career, art, science or any hobbies – are you a consumer or a creator? It is ok to consume, but is that all you are doing? Or, are you pursuing the things that make life worth living for you and trying to improve them by injecting your own individuality?

I go to music, computer programming and writing to find my acts of creation. Every human needs to create. When we create, we look outward at the world, bring the things we like into ourselves, give it our own spin and put it it back into the world. Regardless of the output, an attempt at this process is honorable in all cases. (Unless, for example, you are trying to improve on technologies that will kill other humans.)

The process of creating can be tough, but we usually feel happier afterwards. Think about what excites you most. What are you going to create?