You asked me—
Where do your words come from?

My heart.
My brain.
My mouth.
They move together—
like rhythm, like breath.
When I speak,
I don’t plan the stories…
They just
come
out.

From the memories—
The ones I carry,
the ones that carried me.

To those who built them with me,
walked beside me,
loved me—
then pushed me
out.

You’re still there.
In the stories I tell.
In the moments that rise up
like waves I thought had passed.

Friends—
They’ve given me the words,
the courage to speak
without the shadow of doubt.

Spirit talks—
In the echo of every footstep taken,
in the silence between
laughter and tears.

That’s life.
Right?
That’s what it’s all about.

We all feel the same things—
joy, heartbreak,
the ache that sits just under the surface.
But we hide it.
We hold it down.
And doubt?
It doesn’t walk alone.
It comes
with company.

So let’s talk.
Let’s remember—
what made us happy.
What made us cry.
What made us doubt everything
we once believed in.

These are our building blocks—
of motion,
of emotion,
of memory.

This…
this is the story.
This is what life is all about.