I think you’re a good guy. I’m never going to know you, I can’t say this to you, you won’t ever read these words, and I still believe it. That is just the beginning of the power of who you are.
Oh my God, there you are, doing the best you can, as much as you can manage to. Because being good is not being perfect, it’s being present and helping out.
Hey good guy and good lady. You can find stuff you’ve given up looking for. Sure, you’ve found another solution, or gone without. Well, I want you to know something important. The friend you lost has not given up being found by you.
The one you cast away is one of the cast in your play, this will always be even if you’re facing away from each other on the stage.
Hello good man or good lady. You bore the burden of the high ride of High School, with those expectations crushing you sometime after age twenty-two. You were crushed, and you floundered, and then after righting yourself so many times, you settled into the best status imaginable. A good person.
You will never recall what you do not record. So you pursued a variety of experiences, including reading what was worth your time. You worked within your means to make life meaningful, for people in your sphere, over and over again. That’s way more than a status title or a salary.
You bring goodness to the world, and I love you. You’re in plain view, to those who are young and crushed, or old and crushed, and waiting to be reformed. Which way will inflate them? Who is going to help form and set their rightful standard? When their example is you, they reshape themselves to keep out of trouble. They’ll be content, and happy, and grow from there. They grow, from you.
Hey good guy or good lady. Keep going. Thank you for showing up and helping out. For shaping me when I was crushed and for getting over hating yourself when you’ve let you down. It’s no secret when I say, we need you. I don’t have to know you, when I know you’re out there.
Ara Hagopian's The Literate Show 