So, I spent the year in the shallows of dream,

in depths where time just slipped freely by.

Through the commotion, dodging takers, liars, the insipid leeches of humanity,

I made my way, with a duck and weave with sleep still hanging from my eyes;

I made my way.


From the shallows of dream. 

Making my way, untouched, unjaded, 

I made my way from the shallows to the shore

to feel those fervent shafts of morning upon my face,

and from here, I recognize, I made my way.

My way.


And like that, its August. The kids will be going back to school in the next few weeks and will be time again to begin that routine. 

It'll be time again to wish for more time, to wish for those long lazy days of winter. Time always escapes me. I need to find myself more in the moment. I think. But adulting is hard. Worries are hard. 

But is it? Really? The older I get, the easier it seems to say fuck it. It's easier to ask myself, can I control it? No? Then fuck it. 

Mind over reality, or something like that. Its more like, deciding myself, what today is going to be, what tomorrow is going to me. Its me deciding, where I'm going, not my boss, not my Director. It's me. Just me. Not letting anyone decide where I'm going. 

I'm babbling, I know. But this isn't just for me. It's for everyone. Be you, believe in yourself beyond believing. Make you happen. Seriously. Every step is one step closer.

Be real, be you, be that piece of the Universe that you were intended to be, as best you can. Because you can light this fucking darkness up!



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