If you take the square root of luck, multiply by P, what will you get from this alchemy?

Our beliefs consume us with obsessive compulsion, this one has claimed all of me.

The consistency we desire exists within our minds.

Happiness is something we conjure not something we find.

The fountain of youth is an imagined lake.

I’ve become addicted to such sorcery after discovering how magic tastes.

To live a full life is to shed fear of death, to live into old age and welcome flesh’s end without daunt.

The joyous thing about life, and believe me when I say this, everybody gets what they want.

The caveat is you can have anything, just not everything.

When I sleep, when I imagine, when I make believe, when I pray,  It’s always the same dream.

I've been focused on my distant light the last 14 months, I feel like I'm living in a telescope.

Unprecedented sacrifices, committed to living with my mother until I never have to tell her nope.

My great grandmother is 89, we saw her today they think she's leaving soon.

I couldn't catch my breathe to tell her that her prayers blocking my demons gave me breathing room.

Not sure why we assume we have the whole clock to air it out.

I'm pressing my lungs everyday until the air is out.

She had my grandmother and uncle in a one bedroom shack, three mouths to feed.

Has me ashamed of the things in my life I was ever foolish enough to call a need.

My eyes are wide open so I listen to less of my peers, I have a distant ear.

Playing who wants to be a millionaire but my lifelines are starting to disappear.

I'm a product of generations of sacrifices, my destiny is the heights my lineage will soon taste.

We couldn't rob Peter to pay Paul, in my family they were usually roommates.

Earth's canvas, leaves fall on paint.

The sun becomes a recent memory, there but faint.

The air feels like a restart.

It wasn't my year, but this is my part.

When the leaves fall, I pick myself up.

Holidays, where we forget the selfish stuff.

Hold my hand, search my eyes, & judge my plate.

Cold weather, warm houses, and allergic faith.

There is no courage without vulnerability, that strong probability of failing or getting hurt.

Why do people pursue certainty in their lives? Going through life finding comfort in spoiler alerts.

Why buy tickets to a horror movie where the fear is spilled in the commercial?

Will your life be an example of abstract expressionism or a familiar rehearsal?

Without uncertainty what's the point? I want to wonder what I'll see and guess on the source of the sound.

I leap for the feeling in the air, not for promise of landing back on the ground.

Progress is a compass, Identifying location.

The two most important days in our lives are when we are born and when we find our vocation.

It's no surprise you'll feel lucky sleeping in clovers.

Time should be like money, completely spent on what we wanted when it's over.

Where you're standing, do the butterflies circle you like you're part of the flutter?

There comes a day when our passions pass through our souls with such smooth grace like butter.

I would argue that where there is sustained struggle there is misplacement.

The best passions absorb us in a time freezing, effortless encasement.

That was me today, I put my wand down with no recollection of what I'd just done.  

So I wrote this for the chance I could help someone.

I had a feeling that I belong.

I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone.

Questions are just endings under hooks.

The answer being our addictions are our ends, and so I shall perish in my books.

Ancient scribes detailing the dark arts, who doesn’t like a puzzle?

The world has convinced people they’ll be treated if they put on their own muzzle.

I declare the bark as useless, the bite gets the point across.

Humor me, what great win ever came before a loss?

More importantly why is more focus put on the get to rather than get through?

When do you enjoy the food most? When you swallow or when you chew?

Never mind, I concern myself not with the education of the masses, I’m obsessed with these dark forces with which I fiddle.

Created by an author I’ve not known, I am the answer to Tom’s riddle.