You ask if I’m getting out if bed today, with attitude, as if I am the laziest person alive. Yes, I am getting out of bed today & I want a fucking parade because it will take every ounce of me to step out of that bed & to put my feet on the floor. It will take every ounce of me to fake my existence with perfectly timed smiles & pretending to sneeze when I feel water burning behind my eyeballs. It will take every ounce of me to keep up with conversations while working so hard to detangle the black thoughts that haunt my mind. I deserve a fucking parade.


Tell me, do the androids seriously dream of electrical sheep? If not, then why do I dream so? You do not hear me. Every part of me has conjured up everything that can to tell you I’m sorry. I’m not crafty enough? The exhaustion has made me question my life. So I go forth with the equipment I have. As do you. I am no shining armor. Who has time to clean? I just wished you fought the fire with me, douche bag.

Within the void.

Love Letter

Words mean nothing. They are hollow. Everywhere I am constantly reminded of memories. Everywhere I look- trees, school, children, look that’s my mom – and all the memories of her, dad and all the experiences I’ve had with him. Have you ever ‘thought’ what your life is without memories, without labels, without experiences of the past, without past judgement and prejudice and feelings. Do you know what love is? What is love? What is it? In my experiences of the past I’m trapped, in the labels I cannot see clearly at the thing that I’m actually looking at. All the memories distort and contort it. My life becomes smothered by the memories of the past. And in realising this, this fact, I become a little more free. I am starting to see the real facts. How my perception is always wrong, just how conditioned(?) I am. When you go in to this, a lot of painful memories come back to you, even all the memories that have hurt you since your childhood start to come in. The accumulation of knowledge and memories is so great that I don’t see the things clearly. That fact is very obvious to me now. I see it. It’s like I’m blind. We all live this don’t we? But why? It’s such a pattern in our life- a habit, but it’s so so limited. It keeps us in constraints, I feel trapped in its monotony, its limited meaning which holds no meaning for me, because I’m not free. I’m not free of experiences and knowledge – they stifle me and life. I want freedom from this. I feel trapped, hidden, something inside me is dormant and intensely alive – like life inside me. It’s beautiful. It’s what keeps “me” alive too. I am life. “My” life which is the same life in everything else -intense but still and patient.

I don’t know what or why I wrote, it doesn’t have any significance for anyone who doesn’t understand any way. And I don’t know if anyone really does understand any of this. Again words are hollow and meaningless. Only thing of value is yourself. I go through life day in and day out in a pattern of thinking and feeling- all of which are my experiences and past always and in them I find ‘you’. You’re like an accumulation of all the knowledge I have about you so far. I think that’s horrible. That’s not you, or anyone. I know for fact that words will never really grasp you. (I know you hate talking and reading so much and rather just get on with your life and do what you like, but maybe one day if you ever really look, for yourself, you might find your own answers) I don’t hope for you, I don’t wish anything, the fact is I don’t know you at all, and what I mean by that is this- I see and look at you and see one thing- that thing that everyone sees as you- it’s quite natural- you’re either busy doing some work or something. Then I look closer, and maybe it’s your face or something almost superficial like that that keeps my eyes lingering around your face- I look closer. My thoughts interpret what I see. I label you with words and associate feelings towards ‘you’ and to me that’s you in my mind. I know full well that’s not really you. Because you are made of many other things that you identify as yourself and you have desires for your future, some image of who you are, and what you want, your past and all that. And even then, that’s not you because you are not the labels you put on yourself. It’s a bit like pulling back layers to get to ‘you’. So, I hope you get why I don’t know you. You will keep transforming and changing your labels and peel back layers here and there. But it’s like the main essence (life- is that what you would call it?) remains there. If there’s one thing I can say ‘I love’ or ‘is love’ is that- that life. And that’s you, and that’s me and that’s really everything. It’s intense but quiet and very patient. Maybe I’ll write more, but I don’t know when. I’m tired of thinking and writing right for now.

I know this makes little sense, buts that’s okay, I don’t expect nor want anyone to understand what I’m saying. I know some parts of this are true, maybe it’s just that I can’t express my thoughts clearly. Perhaps you need to go into this yourself and not be lead by what I have to say- maybe then you will make some sense of this.

My Love Letter

April 23, 2016

Dear Jacob M.

I’m afraid to admit that it’s still there, the feeling I had for you. And it never went away, it’s always there hiding to come out afraid to ruin a friendship. I’m afraid, I’m also afraid to hurt myself because there’s no day that I’m hurt, there’s no day that I keep thinking if anyone really cares about me, there’s no day that I feel sad or alone, there’s no day that I want to scream or cry. There’s no day that I stop thinking about you, wishing to be with you, hearing your beautiful voice, seeing your gorgeous smile, there’s no day that I stop loving you.

There, I finally spilled it out but who the heck am I to you right? I’m just someone you know, someone you met at least three years now, a schoolmate and a friend. I know and it’s clear that I stand no chance to be in a higher position in your life, not higher than a known friend. What the heck? Even how much I tell myself things, even how much I push myself to hate you to dislike you, even how million things I think bad of you, curse you, kill you in my head every second of the day, the very last second, still tells me that I love you. See I’m crazy, maybe I need to consult a neuro, right? Because maybe I’m just hallucinating or I already have a tumor.

There’s so many things that I want to tell you, ask you. But I’m clueless now. And I know you’re also clueless of all of this because that’s you. I want to tell you how much I want to hug you, how badly I want to talk with you, listen to your voice, to sit beside you and how badly I want to see you every day. And I want to ask how’s your day? I want to greet you good morning, good night. I want to have lunch and dinner with you. I want to know you more. And I want to ask if I stand a chance to be not just a friend, not just a classmate, not just someone you know, but someone who will be there for you in your good or bad days, I want to be that someone who will freely and proudly cheer for you when you have games, someone who will listen to your problems, someone who’ll share your success and even failure, someone who’ll be a part of you. But who am I kidding??? It will be a very, big, huge, gigantic miracle to happen. It’s just me, having my hopes up for someone impossible, something will never happen in this lifetime.

But even how impossible things can be, I’m just here for you. Maybe you’re not aware or you even don’t know I exist in that kind of matter. But I’m happy for you, I’ll be happy for what makes you happy. I’ll just be proudly cheering you in the corner, I’ll just be giving you good luck and happy thoughts in a distance, and I’ll just be here behind you, always.

And I’ll just love you from a distance


A Love Letter

You always complain that I can’t make up my mind. It’s true, but it still drives me crazy. All I know, is that when you ask me what I want, one thing stays in the back of my mind. It’ll never happen, but it’s there. All I want is your hands in my hair, my back against the wall, and no cares in the world but us. All I want is you.

A New Poem

Mark the page of the dictionary, darling, so that I’ll never forget the word to describe you

You will always be my definition of love
Whenever someone asks me
What love feels like,
I will smile.
It feels like you. Your hand,
Firm, protection,
Around my waist. Just above the
Curve of my hip.
Like you were putting the
Pieces of me
Together and turning every
Dream I’d ever had into
A vision of
A spectrum of light and you were
Every shade.

-Amy Beecham

To see more from Amy, visit her blog The Girl and the Words or her Twitter page.

Love Letter

I painfully love you. I know we will never ever be together, but I sincerely wish you knew how gradually my love for you is killing me and making me die slowly day after day.

We used to be able to talk and joke together. We used to look at each other without any soupçon of malaise when discussing our work. You would advise me on how to carry out my duties and I always felt comfortable asking you any questions when I was unsure. You would always have something nice to say.

Every second you were in my presence were the most beautiful. Without you knowing, I would discreetly make love to you and still without you knowing, I would close my eyes for a brief moment and feel you as close to me as possible.

Without you knowing, I fell for you. I fell for the most delicious heart. Without you knowing, I fell and the pain has now become so unbearable because one day it all stopped and this is when it all changed.

You started avoiding my gaze when we occasionally met and you gradually stopped talking with me. Me, I started longing, wanting and missing you so much that thinking of you now only brings me sadness, tears and a broken heart.

I will never know what your lips taste of, how beautiful your scent is, how warm your body feels against mine and how tight and long you could hold me against your chest.

All I know is that I am loving you alone and I have never felt so lonely. I just wish you knew.


Anxiety has been a part of my life since before I had the language for it. Over the years it will wax & wane— sometimes for good reason but oftentimes (and more frustratingly) out of nowhere. In July I got really sick, or at least I felt really sick, but no trip to the ER or urgent care returned any results. In August, I had panic attacks more frequently than I’d had in years & I started to worry about the snow & how I would handle the winter blues if I couldn’t handle the summer. I got so frustrated with myself— “my life is better than ever, why can’t I just be a human?” & I forced myself to conquer fears (hi, I have stage fright but I’m gonna act in front of a bunch of strangers for the first time ever at 28) just to prove to myself that I could. The only thing that ever really helps my anxiety is yoga (mind) & eating clean (body) so I decided to commit myself to both for 30 days using the #whole30challenge (no sugar, carbs, booze, etc). To most people this was stupid (I get it) & I don’t know if these things really “cleanse” anything physical, but for me— it’s a mental reset, a challenge to conquer just so I know I can. I don’t believe any diet or lifestyle is right for every person, & I don’t believe in shoving your choices (even your good ones) down other people’s throats (sorry, crossfit friends) but I think if you can find something that fixes your shit you should make it a priority.


No you can’t hit snooze.
Grab your phone.
Facebook says everyone is fine. Get up.
Where are your slippers?
Where are your fucking slippers!?
More people shot today; more hate and fear on tv.
Choke ’em back, go get dressed.
Look at you. You haven’t looked yet.
You don’t wanna look.
The scale fucking LIES.
The news fucking LIES.
Fuck these damn pants!
You guess you like this skirt instead.
OH SHIT! You lost track of time.
Better hang your head and make the late call.
You’ve been fucking up a lot recently.

NOTHING. I am human. I am worthy. I am always learning. I am always enough.


Love Letter

Dear Angela,

This isn’t the first letter that I’m writing to you and I know it is not the last. I can’t stop writing to you, because that is who I am- boy desperately in love with you, so full of words and poems for you. My emotions are too big, I can’t tame them in myself, I need to at least put them on the paper. You remember who I was when we first met? Just a reckless boy which shameless broke too many hearts. And you were so pure. I remember you were making me smile. But I don’t remember which moment was when I start wishing you were mine. I didn’t want to posses you. I wanted to you belong to me volunteering and endlessly. And I wanted to I belong to you. I fall in love, I don’t know when, maybe some early morning at 4AM while I didn’t want to sleep because talking to you was just prettier than any dream. You made me shiver without even touching me, with just couple of sweet words. And in middle of madness, loving you is what bringing me peace.

In the nights when I don’t have you, I still don’t regret. I would do all again, in a heart beat. The way you made me feel is worth of every hurt. I’m just hopping that I made you feel at least half same.

Forever yours,

The Truth

You left me. You left my love because your parents told you they’d shun you from their love if you didn’t. As if being gay is still taboo.

I’m a parent’s dream for their kid: good job, good pay, paid off my car, I don’t do drugs, I’m living on my own, I cook, clean, and repair things, I’m 23 and paid my way through a foreign country, I speak multiple languages, have a degree, great with kids and all I want is their daughter to be happy and safe. That’s my priority. Why wouldn’t you want your kid with someone like that?

I remember when we met, it was like one of those movie scenes. Time stops with you, and it feels like we are the only two people in the world. I have never loved anyone more in my life. I know it hurts you as much as it hurts me to stop this. The world accepts us and sees our love is pure. Just not your world. I wish your parents loved you enough to love who you loved.

I’m not sure how to let you go. It feels like having to decide between losing my arm or my leg. I will always want you to be part of my life. You told me to find someone who is like you but willing to fight for me. My heart has never hurt more to hear that. I know i will be ok. I’m just not ready to let you go yet.

Love Letter

Your beauty could start a war, and I’d be the first one fighting. I remember the first time I met you and your blue eyes and bad knee. It felt like up until I met you I’d been stumbling. I wanted to study the geography of your skin, I wanted your love to wash over me like the weather. I don’t think theres a word for how I feel towards you. I would be yours if you asked. Theres no one on this earth I’d rather be with at two in the morning or two in the afternoon. Theres no one I’d rather stay up all night dancing with, no one I’d rather wake up next to. I would spend all my time with you if I could. You’re the sound a dress makes when it twirls, you’re late night drives, you’re coffee in the morning, you’re anything that anyone could ever aspire to be. Maybe it’s something in you lips that I’ve never kissed, maybe it’s something in your touch that I’ve never felt, maybe it’s the way you say “I love you” that I’ve never heard. Whatever it is, I pray you never lose it. At the end of the day I hope you know I love you even if I could never say it. I hope that you’re back in your hotel room after a day spent chasing your dreams, I hope your listening to all your favorite songs and I hope you’re not lonely. I hope you remember I love you forever and always where ever you go. I hope you know I would swim over oceans for you.

-Samantha Sullivan

Scatter the Ashes of Our Love For Me One More Time

Write about me, you said
But how can I when I don’t know
How the syllables of my name would sound
And taste
On your tongue?

I was in love with a boy like you once
He had your eyes, your soft face
A smile that lit up a thousand streets and
Brought people out from the houses to bask in
It’s brightness

A boy who changed the weather;
A sunrise on the cloudiest morning
Who looked at me like I was the solution
To every problem he’d ever had
The missing piece
Of the puzzled life he was trying so hard to fit together

There was something different
About him from the rest
Maybe it was the way his hands
Were matches and set alight
Every part of my body
And I let myself burn and burn and burn
For him and only

I know that you won’t make me burn, but darling I wish you would.

-Amy Beecham

To see more from Amy, visit her blog The Girl and the Words or her Twitter page.

Love Letter


Ours isn’t an orthodox ‘love’. I can’t say that from the moment I met you I knew you’d be my heart’s content. I can barely recall the events of that fateful evening other than the liquid courage that got me to put my lips on yours.

But you… Your smile is literal sunshine to my soul. Seeing those bright, white teeth always makes my worst day better. I try so hard to fight it but your voice, sexy and sultry, makes my heart beat race and my knees weak. Being in your presence, simply looking at your entire being is enough for me.

I hate how you’re always trying to act tough; it’s okay not to be okay sometimes, to be fragile. You pull me in the most when you’re genuine and you bare your raw emotions. I don’t want you to be ashamed of who you are.

When I’m not daydreaming, I’m night-thinking of what we could be, although I’m constantly interrupted by obstacles that my paranoia foresees. Or your riddles and roundabouts when it comes to showing affection. If you have any feelings for me then tell me honestly.

“It’s dangerous to need someone that much. You’re trying to save him and he’s hoping you can. You two are a disaster.” Occasionally I feel like any future for us is destined to fail; but if you’re ready and willing I would fully devote myself to you.

Just say the words and I am yours.


To read more of her work, you can visit her blog Turquoise Lily Pad.


I wish I could show your heart all the ways I think of you during the day. I wish I could take the load on your shoulders and put it on mine so that you could rest awhile. I wish I could do whatever it is that you need to be made whole. I wish I could let you see through my eyes what I see when I look at you, then, maybe you’d love the beautiful person that you are.

Love Letter

I’m so in love with you, and I don’t know how to not love you. I met you a year and seven months ago and every single one of those days I loved you and I will continue to love you until I know in my heart I don’t love you anymore. When we were a thing or what not, I would talk about you to my best friend all the time. She would tell me to shut up sometimes because I could go on and on and on and on about you. I’ve never in my life met anyone quite like you. To this day in still so infatuated with you. You never seize to amaze me. everything about you I’m so in love with. I think about you so much during the day it’s not even funny. Something someone would say or even a certain smell would make me think about you: wondering if you’re happy, if you’re ok and who’s making you happier than I did, more importantly, if you still loved me and if there was ever going to be another chance with us. I think about all of that all the time.

You are the only guy that has ever made me feel the way you do. You could break my heart and I would still have nothing but positive things to say about you. That’s how I knew I loved you. I stated to make excuses For you when I knew somewhere deep down that you don’t deserve me… but I felt like I deserved you and that’s what hurts. Some days I will go to your contact and start to write a message, but at the last second I would delete it because you might actually be really happy with a significant other. I pray every day for you and that you are genuinely happy with life, even if I’m not apart of it. I didn’t want to mess that up and take a chance if there wasn’t one with us. Other days, I tell myself that when the times right, it’ll happen. I always wish that you will text me randomly and tell me you love me and ask if I thought there was a chance because I always think about me asking you if we had a chance and me always thinking about if we did start over how much better I would try and make it and how happy I would be. I love you. I will forever.

Love Letter

Missy Kenyon,

I love you!
It’s not a feeling in my stomach.
It’s not something I fell into.
I met you, I liked you.
We talked and we laughed.
We danced awkwardly but then it happened.
We connected, I touched your hand and you touched my heart.
We spent hours on the phone.
Revealing the layers of our beings.
The good, the mistakes, and the skeletons.
We experienced each other, the kisses, the intimate touches, our souls joined together with each encounter.
And now, I choose to love you.
You’re not perfect but I love you.
I love your past, I love your present and I want to love our future.
I love you.
It’s the choice I made.

-Bruce Bean

Love Letter

I like you.

Of course, at first, I didn’t know you. If only did not Kuya show me your photo he labelled Jessica Sanchez, I would never do. At my first stares, you look like her. I’m not fond of Jessica, but your similarity is interesting.

One time I asked if there’s anyone who could help me out naming the pictures in your block. I did not have that authoritative voice so none heard me, but you and your friend. Oh, that made me smile, only containing gratitude.

Barely i can remember how i knew your name nor even know why I have to know it. If this is crush I am feeling , I am sure this will be gone later. This circumstance had happened a lot of times in the past.

I have to admit that every time you pass I steal a glance, every time I catch a glimpse of your face you make my eyes fixed, but I don’t open it with anybody, even with my closest friends. It’s just they know me.

The teasing started then, so I decided not to deny. The whole class learned it, so what? I kept dancing with the rhythm of their jokes, as well as dancing with the days I saw you. However, literally, I don’t dance. That was a good proof you’re just a crush. I don’t dance when I am in love, I sing.

Though the slightest notion of You-Being-With-Me didn’t occur to me, because I wasn’t that dreaming, I was surprised I asked your number from Choipée.

My past heart issues resurfaced. I hate it. Why people are too nosy? At fist I get mad because talking about what’s already thrown away is annoying. But now, it’s because it may ruin my new heart issues. When you saw my old photos with Her because of their insensitivity, I was truly embarrassed.

I tried to stop these corny stuffs. Stressed with my studies and more, I fought off these thoughts. I distracted myself.

I was not disappointed when Ate told me you had had boyfriend. I was disappointed when I found out shortly you had broken up. Texting you made me feel like I want to comfort you, though I didn’t overdo it. To tell you, I always remind you to call me kuya, but I like it when you don’t.

It was sincere when I made your fan sign, when I compliment you. It was nerve-shaking when we sat together for a real conversation. I was speechless. But the feeling is beautiful…

I don’t like another love story, really, but you came. And that is what is hard. I work hard to stop this feeling because I am afraid I may hurt you later. When we had our next-to-last rehearsal for the Christmas concert, i watched you, frozen. The stars hung around posts and trees are bright, but they’re dimmed by your lovely cat-like eyes. That was the day I realized you actually don’t look like Jessica. You are far prettier than she is.

We didn’t have any picture during the concert. No picture, ever. Until I found out we have one, stolen the day we first talked. That’s enough.

We parted with no good-byes because I didn’t attend the Christmas Party. But I guess, that’s just fine. I am so stupid, so afraid of what I don’t know. I just tell these things for you to know that you inspired someone. These are only words, I know, it’s OK to believe they’re merely lies. But you know, I started singing many days ago.

I really like you.

Gibson Perez

Bonjour, Bonjour!

The holidays are over and new year has begun! You Are Remarkable will be back tomorrow with new posts! Every Tuesday we will have regular content that’s fresh from some new and old contributors. We hope you’ll check in with us every week and as always, we’re looking for contributions! Send us your poems, letters, thoughts, ideas, and ramblings.

YAR Team

Meditation Monday

Om is a Hindu sacred sound that is considered the greatest of all mantras. It is composed of three sounds a-u-m. In Sanskrit, the A and U combine to become O.

Pranayama is the regulation of breath through techniques and exercises.
Vedas are Hindu scripture dating between 1500-1200 bce.
Why Aum?
The tradition of yoga includes the devotional practice of the chant. Aum, the simplest chant, is a call for unity at the beginning and end of each class. It is the distillation of all sound. I sat in meditation one day and heard the Aum of the ocean, the Aum of the fog horn, and the Aum of my cat snoring, all at once. Anywhere on earth, if you pause to listen, you will hear the great unifier Aum. Aum requires that we rest in the present moment.
We are vibrational beings.
When we sing together each of us calls forth from within a vibration and merges it with the vibration of others; it is a generous, unifying gesture. Chanting together quickly brings students- who may arrive with individual burdens or joys- to a state of equalizing vibration. We tune ourselves to each other at the most basic level and so announce our intention to practice together.
Physically, the chant clears the lungs, throat, mouth, and sinuses and stimulates essential juice (rasa). Chanting awakens the soft palate, that sheath just under the pituitary and hypothalamus glands. Chanting warms the chest, the area around the heart, and prepares the body for pranayama. The chant will purify the subtle body as well, bringing balance and tone to an overwrought nervous system.
Newton’s first law tells us that energy is neither created nor destroyed. Sound accretes and transforms but never dies. Some of the Sanskrit chants we sing are ancient, dating back to the Vedas. Through the gift of our voices we can harness the energy and intention of yogis who lived several thousand years ago. The vibration of the music exists whether we choose to chant or not, when we take it into ourselves and send it out again through our own channels, we are keeping alive its healing properties.
When a student feels uncomfortable chanting in class, silent participation is best. The vibration passes through everyone in the room.
Music – and the voices engaged in it- has the power to heal.
-Judith Mcclain, 2007