Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military, where they had been on vacation... everything.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children scailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band- he could see it in his minds eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive language.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside the window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and couldn't even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."


Apathy is good and bad at the same time. It prevents you from being emotionally affected by the world around you, making it easier to keep a distance from those you don't want to get close to. The downside is that those you keep close by your side can hurt you more than you think. You can smile about it, put up a facade, hide the pain, do whatever is necessary, but once you're alone, the hurt surfaces. I'm asking that no matter what, you suck it up and still love them the same way, no matter how deeply they hurt you. Even if they don't care about you, even if you're just a friend, or a shoulder they use to lean on, even with all the cruel jokes they make and insist that it is nothing more than a joke. They can treat you good and treat you bad, call you their brother or their bitch; though it hurts, you must not show it. Your tears will only feed their ego.

I know, I know. Blah blah blah nobody gives a fuck about your broken heart, but you know something? Most days... I'm not even sure what I'm upset about


There's a certain look both guys and girls give each other. It's usually to one specific person. It's kind of like a stare, but the person who's doing the look isn't thinking. He's kinda mesmerised, I suppose. Something about that girl... you know? Innocence, beauty, and your yearn to try and open up her world, show her yours and let her in yours-- try and show her everything you can, and then maybe, just maybe, she'll love you too. But you'll never know.

Personally, I am the place a person falls to when life gets hard. I am the shoulder, the keeper of secrets, the kindness through their pain. I am the wisdom, the knowledge and the prophet when everything goes wrong. I have no idea how it feels to be utterly loved.