At my lowest,
I sit in silence
and bleed nothing but truth.

I peel pain open
like fruit with no skin
bitter, soft,
so achingly sweet.

I trace every crack in my chest
like ancient runes,
looking for the shape of love
in the wreckage.

And when I find it
trembling, ugly, beautiful
I see myself.

To feel this much
is a kind of holiness.
To ache for something
is to prove it mattered.
To shatter for love
is to live.

Even if life is chaos,
I still choose.
I still want.

And maybe that’s enough
to want so deeply
that the wanting alone
makes me real.

There will always be reasons to quit. Sometimes, your body may even reward you for it.
"Quit starving yourself. Look at you.
You're miserable. Help me help you.
Just one smoke. Just one drink. And that's it. No more headaches. No more shakes.
You'll feel like you can think clearly again."
And your body's right. You will feel better. Because change can be painful.
Especially if you're trying to do it alone.
But the saying is true.
If you can push through the pain,
your body will be grateful eventually. And you will gain a new lease on life.

Before I met my wife
I was incomplete
Now I'm finished.

Let the day be light.
Then let it be real.
And let yourself be proud
not of the outcome
but of the truth you chose to share.

Not proud of winning, not of acclaim,
but that you spoke your truth, without shame.
That you let words rise when fear said “hide,
and didn’t let silence steal what’s inside.

Some strength is quiet, soft and bare—
a whisper of honesty hung in the air.
No need for answers, no need for return,
just the soft glow of a heart that burns.

So if the moment feels unsure,
if the path ahead is still obscure,
know this much: you stood your ground,
let your voice make its honest sound.

So let the day be light.
Then let it be real.
And let yourself be proud
not of the outcome
but of the truth you chose to feel.

Another meaningless day, disrupted by a stirring action,
Or maybe stillness and passiveness carry more meaning.
Chasing eternal ideas, we neglect pressing matters.
Drunk with high ideals, we dismiss those closest to us.
We pour our strength into chasing the true path,
and live in a future that never arrives.
When today flew away, leaving no chance to mend broken pieces,
only the bitter taste of anxiety over the unattainable
and regret for what was left undone remain by our side.

I remember that evening like it was just a month ago
Almost night, the shadows of trees around us,
and our hands locked together.
Time stopped on the clock for a moment.
Like a fish thrown onto the shore,
We couldn’t handle the scale of this new life.
Suffocating under overwhelming feelings,
with no air left inside us.

I close my eyes,
and scenes from the past flash by like an old movie reel.
An apartment block,
a courtyard with iron football goals,
one ball for two teams.
How happy we were in those days,
when our pockets were empty
and our hearts free of envy and rivalry.
I close my eyes, and only one question lingers:
When did we lose our feelings in a flood of meaningless worries?