For the sake of my own mental case, I must brace for the fact that I lack the capacity to write like I once did..to understand that what was, cannot bare the thought of what is and visa versa, to realize quick and fast that the past for me is a curse worth breaking..because it’s making me doubt who I am.

It used to be in music. In the moments we define by how divine they are in the instant they pass..in those moments I would see..love, life, and tragedy played out before me as they have been for so many others. I began to make comparisons between the heart, the soul, the struggle for the independence of thought and the understanding that striving for freedom of self means letting others define who you will be, if only a little.

That was me then..a quiet soul among men who found great joy in describing the world with words like “soul” and “shadow.” But from my recollection, I made them sound awesome. And maybe that’s the trick, to realize that the only worth something has is that which you are willing to give, and I should strive to live every day with my best foot forward..but who am I to talk? I was never supposed to have a leg to stand on.