Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Short of Breath

I always love when days get so long and tragically dark that we believe we can see the stars. It's moments in life like that that we have to thank for our growth. I find it inspiring that emptiness and fear are brave enough to offer us a chance to question and test our faith - I know what you're about to say and yes, I am writing this at 2 a.m. while doing that exact thing (questioning. Testing). But what kind of artist would I  be if I banished my starside rants from these hallowed pages of clarity and what would I gain from my poetic therapy sessions if I didn't at least try to make something more stunning than roses or moons from my pain? So allow me, if you will, to return to my point. Because as people - nothing more than the atoms that form the elements of our societies, we crave friction and contact, balance and gentleness. We must be reminded that others out there have felt what we are feeling when we feel it. We must know that never in any second of time will we ever be truly alone. I have noticed something fascinating in the way humans manage to be stars (fueled and passionate) and snowflakes (frigid and stoic) all at once - without ever so much as batting an eyelash and no matter how horrible we feel or how dark the sky gets we will Always remain more radiant than the sun and more complex than any universe. And it's always thoughts like this that get me through the days I forget how to breathe. 

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