Breath in. You are okay. You are worthy. Not Because of anything you have done, not because of anything you are, but because you are alive. But because you are living.

Breathe out. Reaching, grasping, clinging towards connection, towards external validation. Your world is falling apart, you are alone. You are nothing unless someone or something tells you otherwise.

Breathe in. The present moment has all you need. Just take one more step. Experience is the fertilizer in the field of growth and maturity. And sometimes experiences smell like shit. Who are you? Wrong question. What does this moment have for you? Everything you need if you pay attention.

Breath out. You are weak, you are childish, you will never measure up. What you seek can’t be found. To your past you are bound.

Breathe in. You are enough. So what if you are childish? Venture on with fearless abandon and a curious heart. What you seek, you always had. Those chains you carry are only bound because you allow them to be. So Let go.

Breathe out. The pain is too much. The hurt too deep. You can’t make it on your own. You are too fragile. Escape this. It is okay. Nobody will miss you. You have failed yourself. You have failed those around you. The journey is too tiresome. And a journey not enjoyed is not worth taking.

Breathe in. Your life is no journey with a destination to arrive. Your life is a song. A gorgeous composition that the universe cries out at. Give it the encore it desires. For every great crescendo, there precedes a mighty decrescendo. Just as this life shapes you, so too do you shape the world.

Breathe out. Love is torment. Love is loss. Love is a stream of endless vulnerability. Of endless betrayal. Protect yourself. Hide. Never. Ever. Dare to be seen.

Breathe in. Love can be torment. Love can be peace. Love can mean loss. Love can be freeing. Love is an endless stream of vulnerability, with occasional betrayal. Love is forgiveness. Love is without bounds. Love yourself enough that there is no need for protection. Open yourself to what your unique life and your unique story has to offer.

Hold nothing back.

Breathe out worry.

Breathe in the Peace.

It's easy to hide and let time sprint past you while your head spins the clouds.

You dream of grander realities, ones that satisfy the narratives of heroism, sacrifice, honor and recognition.

But in reality, the crippling fear burns through. The fear of making a choice that...

Why can I never follow through?

Perhaps I don't have anything to say anymore? I have opened this laptop to the blank document and stared for hours on end, waiting for some kind of insipiration. Words once flowed out of me like waves to the shore. To breathe was to create. Images upon images. Even in the darkest moments of my life, these pages filled with color and torment. As if I was reaching out in desperation for someone to share in my sorrow. For it is only suffering if it is in silence. I have been silent for a long time. "You need routine," the doctors would say. "In routine, you find stability. And in stability you will find your peace. And also, don't trust all of your thoughts. This kind of disease can be tricky." And so I burried the voice within. The voice that came from the downward spiral of a shattered heart. "It's a cruel and grueling life," it would say. "A place where death is the only certainty and all else is fickle." I have heard many names for this voice. Pessismist, sketptic, cynic and misanthrope are but a few of those names. Depression was perhaps the most common categorization. So I shoveled the medicaton down my throat and as time went on, I establsihed routine. I made new friends. I found love. For all this, I am thankful. However, whenever I come back to this blank page......nohting flows. There is no colorful depiction of the depraved. No vivid visualization of the demons I once held within. I had thought...perhaps...that when the grief had passed and my heart had mended, I would write about life's great triumphs and passion. That my writings would hold joy and light. But instead, I am left with shallow words. As if I lost my voice in the monontonous cultivation of stability I had always craved.

I don’t need to fucking meditate.

I don’t need to fucking calm.

And though I’m sure there is pain to alleviate,

I‘m sure it‘s right where it belongs.

I need to feel alive again,

I need fire and passion and drive

But nothing seems worthy of such ambition,

And I’m tired of feeling deprived.

Who will see through the formulated facade?

What can call my soul to peace?

When will the moments begin triumphing over time?

Where will I cast my only remaining fleece?

Why do I fear when I claim its all pointless?

How will I manage yet another day?

For dreams are distractions that inhibit my function,

And reality withers from my minds harsh decay.

I don’t want to hate you, but I think I might.

But what is hate, but love’s disguise.

With your apathy towards my demise,

And the thoughts you conquer day and night.

I dream of you so often dear,

With each one, the farther away you appear,

And now I know what I mostly feared,

Was the incapability for it to be sincere.

The withdrawals insurmountable, for you were a fierce high,

An illusion of safety, a piercing cry,

Into the depths of my depravity, my isolation, my loss,

Of the peace I once found at the foot of that cross.

A futile replacement, a foolish parade,

Of talk of forever,

Infatuation’s masquerade.

But that talk that you carelessly spouted about,

I took to heart without a shadow of a doubt,

Just like all the talk of an eternity of joy,

I once again fell,

For yet another vain ploy.

It's not so much that our eyes decieve ,

Nor does the nature of existence change,

Then how do some so effortlessly live,

While other count days till death.

Sure, circcumstance is the obvious correlation,

But this shallow view misses the point,

Because we all have circumstantial deprivation,

For human nature makes it as such.

For those full of life, you are immersed in light,

Your pupils are small and tight,

But you struggle to see the small miracles,

For there is too much light to reign in.

But for those whose world is surrounded by dark,

you've been given the power to mend broken hearts.

Your pupils have adjusted and you can see the smallest of lights,

The hope amidst darkness,

To sleep through the night.

Blinded by my own mind,

Cursed by the lack of a days time.

What happens when the sun can't shine,

And my low affect inhibits my ability to rhyme.

My pa,

He said I should be fine,

He said I should enjoy the years of my prime,

No excuse for a lazy man bitching,

While your fam is out stitting shit to make their life sublime.

What you think man?

You think this a game?

You don't think I wish that every little thing,

Wasn't bigger than it seems,

And that the Froese drive,

The Froese family pride could achieve all my dreams?

They're more like nightmares,

The shit that might scare,

Any person with a father figure who care,

And so,

I'm all alone,

In that zone,

Drinking dry whiskey and popping trazadone.

In desperation the old man cries,

"Oh God, my father, don't let me wither with time,"

He yearns for another moement; for he's wasted what's dear,

As slave to indifference,

Held captive by fear.

From the uncertain chaos that blinded his life,

He formed his own safety,

A false promise,

Eternal life.

Now he begs and pleads,

For the facade is now weak,

And the truth of his regret,

Renders helpless retreat,

To the desperation of our reality,

And the cruciality,

Of seizing.

Sieze what's been given,

Though little,

It's enough.

Embrace the concept of ends,

All is fickle,

Shielded from none.

Risk it all for your dreams,

But release the reigns you hold tight,

And be okay with new vision,

And new purpose in your life.

For though everything is subjective,

Ever-changing,

And small,

Your experience is everything,

All essence,

Is yours alone.

She looked up and our eyes met. As if she was allowing me to see her for the first time.

With her defeated posture and desperate gaze she asked me a simple question.

“Do you know what it’s like?”

I knelt beside her. I reached for her hand.

She pulled away, knowing I couldn’t understand.

“No. I don’t and I pray I never do.”

A moment of vulnerability and transparency. Even in her turmoil,

she had never been more beautiful.

I chose my words carefully.

I spoke my message into existence.

For I saw in her what she had hid from all the rest.

“I’m not asking for your trust yet. I have to earn that.

But give me a chance, for the world is brighter than you think. In you, I find delight. And in us, your hope will be restored.

A tear rolled down her face.

“Melt with me.”