My biggest fear was dying, nowadays it's feeling alone. It took me twenty-eight years to peer into the looking glass. Somehow, I found that my habits weren't so destructive. Overly mindful of my own disruption, I was dangerously close to doing nothing.

Struggling, searching for pieces long removed from its subject, led me to the mountains. Time unveiled its wisdom; the pain made me philosophical as the years escaped my grasp. Alas, as the years amassed and the veil slowly faded, I came to understand that trials and tribulations should never foster hatred. It's never too late to ask. Every path you tread should never be your last.

Perfected words whisper through me as the pain comes to an end, and I delve into the depths where habits lie shattered. Self-destructive patterns become easier to distinguish. I knew I could pursue some new beginnings if I quit being distant.

Picture me fitting in. Picture me painting pictures in sync, not as a victim. There are things that I've been missing out on.
I just haven't been living.
I relinquish my resistance—for me.