on life and hiro nakamura

So beautiful.

Life, you are so beautiful, but you are so difficult and hard to understand sometimes.

Even when you are lovely and I am happy
-even when all is going according to plan –
you can find a way of baffling me.
Maybe there are worse things in life.
Maybe bigger struggles exist in this crazy world
than a silly girl trying to understand
what philosophers have spent lifetimes trying to spill out on paper.

Life, you are so beautiful, but I do not understand you.
If I have no time to waste – if you are as fleeting as I keep hearing –
then why am I sitting around?
Why haven’t I grabbed my backpack, sold my car, and fled the country?
Why do I spend time here when the world is waiting?
I’m sure Mexico wouldn’t mind someone immigrating south for a change.
As you know, I’m quite certain I would love it there.

Life, you are so beautiful, but sometimes I just can’t understand you.
Why change and why memories?
Why seasons and why trouble?
Why War instead of Peace? Hate instead of Love?
Why do the ones I love seem far-off and my dreams so many years away?
Why can’t I sell my possessions and go live as a nomad?
Contrary to popular belief, I still think I would be a great nomad.

It’s so funny, you and I. Even on my happiest days, with the deepest conversations,
I am wondering of my purpose and my plans.
I am nostalgic and simultaneously living in the future.
Top that, Hiro Nakamura. My space/time continuum is more messed up.

But, seriously, Life.
I love you a bit more every day, with your sunrises and the people I meet.
I love that I am living you with purpose.
Tan bella.

Vida, eres tan bella, pero difícil, y a veces no te puedo entender.
Cuando eres hermosa y me siento feliz,
todavía me confundes.

He vivido de una manera diferente a los demás…
lo he intentado todo.
Pero supongo que lo mío es vivir, como si fuera el último día.
Ayúdame. No puedo entenderte.
Así es.
And that’s okay.