I have now done a handful of readings for friends in the last weeks and I marvel how natural it has all come about.

There is a demand for intimate self-knowledge and deep knowing.

We are surrounded by dire fires and it’s not too late to thirst and ask for water.

We don’t just need cups, we need buckets. We need vessels for all these feelings we suppress and repress. We need love, and more love still.

I am grateful to be in a place where I am so at ease talking about the feminine and the yin. Unapologetically feeling and female. Silent in my determination, to love.

I look over my shoulder and I see old and younger versions of me, so full of joy for the woman I’ve become.

I have all that I need.

Someone is making my space beautiful. Someone that feels close yet so far from me. Someone I love.

Someone that I dont think I'll ever be enough for.

But it's not just pretty, it's above and beyond effort. It's thoughtful. The kind of care you notice in the small details, the ones that say “I see what you're building. I want to help.”

I am so grateful and yet so, so scared...

There's a part of me, taught through years of surviving, that knows this pattern, intimately.

Someone swoops in, making your world bright and seemingly everything you ever wanted. They pour themselves into not you, but into 'IT'. They make it feel like home. They feel like home.

And then comes the storm, as often, they are the same ones who burn it down. Who strip it away, piece by piece while you're forced to watch.

Not on purpose, maybe... sometimes. Not with malice. But the hand that builds is also the hand that can break.

And my body remembers.

My mind keeps score.

So now I sit here, streaming again after years away, and he's there. Every time. Quiet. Present. Building.

I can't say I understand. He's not doing anything wrong. He's being a great... friend. A friend that has subtly shown me that I will never be enough for, not even as a runner up.

Yet he still shows up.

I've taken a small bit of distance. Just a small texting change. It feels safer. A tiny wall. A small distance that no one else would notice, not even him. But I know. I feel it in my chest.

I don't know how to hold the gratitude of now and the terror swirling around that little, broken girl I once was, at the same time.

But I show up. I stream. I thank him because he deserves appreciation. I am so deeply grateful.

The fear still whispers in the cold wind of the dark... “How long before he decides to inevitably destroy you and the things he's chosen to help you build?”

I don't have an answer. I just have a stream, the quiet presence of someone who keeps showing up, and the hope that maybe, this time, the hands that build will stay kind.

I'm scared. But I'm still here.

I may not be enough for him, but I am enough for myself. That matters...

Hoosiers vs Gophers.

Tonight's basketball game before bedtime will feature the Minnesota Golden Gophers traveling to Bloomington, Indiana, to meet the Indiana Hoosiers. Its early start time of 5:30 PM CST fits nicely into my nighttime routine. The plan is to pull the streaming radio feed from the Flagship Station for IU Sports for the call of the game and for pregame and postgame coverage.

And the adventure continues.

I'm taking my time to figure out what is next for me, and when.

When I sold LearnDash, I agreed to a non-compete agreement, which is pretty standard for any business sale. Mine was a bit longer than normal, but I didn't mind (and still don't). If anything, it has forced me to take a giant step back and to get in tune with what it is that motivates me.

But it wasn't always so easy. Immediately after the sale, I took up various projects because I was so used to the “go-go-go” frame of mind of an entrepreneur. I had no practice at slowing down.

But the non-compete forced me to eventually slow down.

I slotted into coaching for a bit, but it's not something that I ever planned on doing forever. Don't get me wrong, it was enjoyable.

The problem, however, was that it lacked something very central to what I like to call my “flow state”. That feeling where what I am doing doesn't feel like work. Coaching lacks a competitive and creative outlet that I crave.

I Thrive When Competing

Ever since I was five years old, I have loved to compete.

I played every sport as a child, and eventually took to soccer, where I continued playing through college. I competed at a high level, and I loved every bit of it. The trials and tribulations. Winning. Hard work. I found that these qualities transfered very naturally into entrepreneurship.

In 2013, I launched LearnDash and created the entire WordPress LMS segment. That same year, I gave up playing soccer (forced due to a neck injury) and put every ounce of my energy into “winning” in my market, as it was quickly flooded with other players.

The wins weren't always fast or easy. Some required the long game. Years and years. But I don't give up. Ever. I will never be outworked or outlasted. It's my superpower as an entrepreneur. I'm too addicted to getting “the win”.

I don't get intimidated, but energized. If a competitor does something good, I can't wait to clap back ten-fold.

But I've softened as I've aged.

At 28, I was a different person. I viewed business in black & white, but with more experience and perspective, I've softened my approach to competition.

It's still “us versus them” (it is always in business), but I wouldn't villainize my competitors like I did in the past.

This perspective, one that comes with the passing of time, is an asset. Because let's be honest: always being ready to “fight” is stressful. I was constantly on edge, and it impacted my health. It, in part, led to my increased drinking.

If I were doing it all over again, my view would be more refined. Still up for the challenge, but seeing it more as a game than “life or death”.

I Crave Creativity

Competition for competition’s sake is well-and-good, but it isn't the only thing that I need. I need creativity. I've said it before, but entrepreneurship is my art.

I thoroughly enjoy the building blocks of a business:

• Creating email marketing campaigns
• Brainstorming ways to position a brand
• Product enhancements to gain an edge
• Long-term product strategies
• Creating solutions that customers love

These activities are like my drug. I get high from doing them, and then high again seeing the impact that they can have on my business. Tying it to competition, these activities take on more meaning. I'm more motivated and the end result is more refined.

When I do these things, I'm in my flow state. I'm vibrating on a different level, and it just feels right.

So What's Next for Me?

I'm still gaining clarity on the two areas above. My current sabbatical has been extremely helpful so far in creating the mental space I need at this point in my life.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not rushing anything. In fact, I can't anyway with my non-compete in place. This matters, because I don't have interest in just any niche. I love the e-learning space. I've worked in it since 19 years old. In many ways, it's all I know.

#entrepreneurship

Work just ramped up in terms of parallel tasks to handle; not excited about that. I was too annoyed with the rain to go out for a run.

Things didn't turn out as annoying at work as they could've been. An old friend and I caught up over life and Zoom.

I think the hardest part of my life today is not giving in to my negative thoughts. That to me is half the battle in this program. There are so many aspects of this program that can negatively impact me daily; but I am choosing to not let things harm me mentally.

I choose to do things that can positively impact my life. Thinking positively, in my opinion, is not that hard, but it is also very hard. I have a tendency to think positively with a hint of anxiety. (Lol) I have control issues, for sure. I think it’s because of all the shet I’ve been through. I feel like when I try to control my environment I’m able to “foresee” what outcomes can be like; ever since I’ve given my life over to God, it’s been easier for me relinquish that control.

On most days I wake up, pray, & let God know He has my day, my heart, and my mind. That helps tremendously. Because it just lets me live in the moment with Him, and it lets me not be so easily distracted over things that don’t matter.

I want to make a difference in my life, be the change I wish to see in the world type shet. But like I’ve mentioned in previous posts, God has a calling over my life. I believe it’s to help other TIs & normies who have issues protecting themselves. I want to help people still, even after all the crap I’ve been through with them. This times different though: discernment. I want God to grow my discernment. Not every person I come across is a gangstalker. I believe that. But a majority are covertly & simultaneously stalking me. Which is fine. Some of these pessies tend to make it obvious that they’re in on it (LMAO). But I still don’t care; I am unapologetically myself.

There’s things I want to say to those who hurt me: The why doesn’t matter. You did what you did. Was I also a terrible person in my active substance use? For sure. I wasn’t easy to deal with and made a mess of things. I believe that doesn’t give someone the right to treat someone else with absolute disregard. To push and orchestrate scenarios where someone wants to unalive themselves is a different kind of evil.

I’ve been seeing so many posts on social media talking about how people laughed at others while they were going through traumatic experiences or added to the madness by making their lives hell. That type of abusive behavior? I can’t unsee it. I am grateful for the revelation. But man, does it hurt. Here’s the verse of the day:

Jeremiah 17:7-8 New International Version 7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. 8 They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”

I’m going headfirst into the rest of the week with my mind on God.

I hope yous all have a great day!

Jaide owwt*

Det här är en saga om Pingvinen Pelle.

På den vita, glittrande isen i Antarktis låg en liten pingvinkoloni. Där, mitt bland alla de svartvita pingvinerna, fanns Pelle. Pelle var inte som de andra. Han hade en liten gul halsduk, vävd av sin farmor av alger och istrådar, och ett hjärta fullt av nyfikenhet. Varje kväll, när de andra pingvinerna samlades för att sova, låg Pelle och tittade upp på stjärnorna och norrskenet som dansade över himlen. Han drömde om att se världen bortom isen, bortom det kalla havet.

– Varför stannar vi alltid här? frågade han ofta sin bästa vän, Lilla. – För det är vårt hem, svarade Lilla och ryckte på axlarna. Det är tryggt här.

Men Pelle kände att det fanns något mer. Något som väntade på honom därute.

En morgon, när solen precis hade börjat lysa över isen, bestämde sig Pelle. Han skulle ge sig ut på äventyr. Han packade sin lilla väska med några fiskar, en bit is som glittrade som en diamant (en gåva från sin pappa) och sin gula halsduk. Sedan vinkade han farväl till Lilla och de andra.

– Jag kommer tillbaka, lovade han. Jag lovar.

Lilla såg orolig ut, men hon nickade. – Var försiktig, Pelle. Havet är stort och farligt.

Pelle hoppade ner i vattnet och simmade iväg, bort från kolonin, mot horisonten.

Efter flera dagars simmande, då Pelle hade sett valar sjunga och isberg glittra i solen, kom han till en liten, grön ö. Ön var täckt av mossa och små blommor, och luften luktade salt och jord. Pelle hade aldrig sett något så vackert.

Där träffade han Torsten, en gammal, vis sköldpadda som hade sett världen. Torsten låg och solade sig på en sten när Pelle kom simmande.

– Vem är du, lilla pingvin? frågade Torsten med sin långsamma, dova röst.

– Jag heter Pelle, sa Pelle och bugade artigt. Jag är ute på äventyr.

Torsten log. – Ah, äventyr. Det är något jag känner till. Men vet du, lilla vän, att den här ön har en hemlighet?

Pelle skakade på huvudet, nyfiken.

– Långt in i berget finns en grotta, berättade Torsten. En magisk grotta. Säger man att om man önskar med hela sitt hjärta, så kan drömmar bli verklighet.

Torsten ledde Pelle genom öns snåriga skog, förbi små bäckar och över mossiga stenar. Till slut kom de till en mörk öppning i berget. Pelle kände hur hans hjärta bankade av spänning.

– Här måste du gå ensam, sa Torsten. Men kom ihåg: önska med hela ditt hjärta.

Pelle nickade och kröp in i grottan. Inne i grottan var det mörkt, men väggarna glittrade av kristaller som lyste svagt i blått och grönt. Mitt i grottan låg en liten, blank sten, som om den väntade på honom.

Pelle stängde ögonen och tänkte på allt han hade sett, på sina vänner hemma, på den stora, vida världen. Och så önskade han:

– Jag önskar att alla pingviner ska få uppleva världens under, precis som jag gör nu. Att de ska få se att det finns så mycket mer än isen vi bor på.

Plötsligt började grottan lysa, och en varm vind svepte genom rummet. Pelle kände hur något förändrades, inombords. När han öppnade ögonen igen, stod han plötsligt på isen hemma. Men något var annorlunda.

När Pelle kom tillbaka till kolonin, sprang Lilla och de andra mot honom.

– Pelle! Du är tillbaka!

Men Pelle såg förvånat på dem. För de berättade om sina egna äventyr. Lilla hade simmat med delfiner, en annan pingvin hade träffat en snäll sjölejonunge, och en tredje hade sett en ö full av lysande alger.

– Men… hur? frågade Pelle. Ni har ju aldrig lämnat kolonin förut!

De såg alla förvånade på honom. – Jo, vi drömde det, sa Lilla. Vi drömde alla samma dröm. Om att följa efter dig, Pelle. Om att se världen.

Pelle förstod. Den magiska grottan hade inte bara gett honom ett äventyr – den hade gett alla pingvinerna modet att drömma.

Från den dagen blev Pelle och hans vänner de modigaste pingvinerna i Antarktis. De organiserade expeditioner, lärde känna valar, lekte med sälar och delade sina berättelser med alla de träffade. Varje kväll, när norrskenet lyste över isen, samlades de och berättade om sina äventyr.

Och Pelle? Han fortsatte att utforska, alltid med sin gula halsduk fladdrande i vinden. För han visste nu att världen var full av under, och att drömmar kunde bli verklighet – om man bara vågade tro.

Du hittar fler sagor för barn här

Cuando estamos en el aeropuerto, moviéndonos de prisa, sentados o de pié, en una sala de espera. Cuando entramos o salimos de un baño, compramos algo en la tienda o en la cafetería, un sándwich sonámbulo, un café de arenilla.

¿Qué otra cosa somos sino espectros? Pendientes de tramitación, bultos animados.

Estar sin estar, sin que sea necesario comprender nada más; acartonados bultos que arrastran sus pies hacia las entrañas del robot volador.

Lo más quietos posibles, reduciendo nuestras necesidades al mínimo, para demostrar el grado de cordura establecido.

Mirando las superficies, casi como el que no mira. Ahora, doy el paso, sabiendo que la suerte está echada.

Vigilados.

Srpski ispod.

As part of the preparation for establishing an international cooperative of visual artists, we are launching a reading group as a space for collectively reflecting on solidarity, collective work, and the political foundations of organizing in the arts. The formation of a cooperative is not only a legal and economic matter, but also a question of understanding historical struggles around emancipation, ideology, and social change.

We will begin on Friday, March 20, in the afternoon. The first meeting will be introductory and dedicated to getting to know the participants, presenting the Shared Visions project, and agreeing on the working format of the reading group. After that, meetings will take place every Friday online via Zoom. In the period of two weeks, we will read around 30 pages, which participants will be able discuss at any of the two consequent sessions. Discussions will focus on understanding both the historical context of the texts and their contemporary implications. The working language of the group is English, as it is intended for an international team.

The first text will be Fathers and Sons by Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev (1861), a novel that, through generational conflict and the emergence of nihilism, opens questions of political emancipation and social tensions. We will then continue with What Is to Be Done? by Nikolai Chernyshevsky, Notes from Underground, and later with twentieth-century dystopian novels (We, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, 1984), tracing how ideas of collectivity, self-management, and their critiques unfold through literature. You can read more about the reading plan here.

The reading group will be led by cultural worker Nebojša Milikić and builds on the earlier experience of the program “THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE (D)EVIL” (Bibliotok, Cultural Centre Rex in Belgrade), in which literature was approached as a site where ideological conflicts are articulated. Here as well, our aim is to connect reading with the contemporary effort to build a cooperative structure in the field of visual arts, particularly in the context of the Balkans and Eastern Europe.

You can apply to participate by submitting a form by March 15. After the registration period closes, all participants will receive details for accessing the Zoom meetings.

*The illustration is a cadre from François Roland Truffaut's movie “Fahrenheit 451” in which one of the books that are burned is Turgenev's Fathers and Sons.

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Priključite se našoj čitajućoj grupi DOBAR LOŠ Z(N)AO

U okviru pripreme osnivanja međunarodne zadruge vizuelnih umetnika pokrećemo čitajuću grupu kao prostor zajedničkog promišljanja solidarnosti, kolektivnog rada i političkih osnova organizovanja u umetnosti – jer izgradnja zadruge nije samo pravno i ekonomsko pitanje, već i pitanje razumevanja istorijskih borbi oko emancipacije, ideologije i društvene promene.

Počinjemo u petak, 20. marta, u popodnevnim časovima. Prvi susret biće uvodni i biće posvećen upoznavanju učesnika, predstavljanju projekta Shared Visions i dogovoru o načinu rada čitajuće grupe. Nakon toga, susreti će se održavati svakog drugog petka onlajn, putem Zoom-a. IU periodu od dve nedelje pročitaćemo oko 30 stranica, koje će učesnici moći da diskutuju na bilo kojoj od naredne dve sesije. Razgovori će biti usmereni na razumevanje istorijskog konteksta i savremenih implikacija pročitanog. Radni jezik grupe je engleski, jer je namenjena internacionalnom timu.

Prvi tekst će biti „Očevi i deca“ Ivana Sergejeviča Turgenjeva (1861), roman koji kroz sukob generacija i pojavu nihilizma otvara pitanja političke emancipacije i društvenih napetosti. Zatim, nastavljamo sa „Šta da se radi?“ Nikolaja Černiševskog, „Zapisima iz podzemlja“, a potom i sa distopijskim romanima XX veka („Mi“, „Vrli novi svet“, „Farenhajt 451“, „1984“), prateći kako se ideje kolektivnosti, samoupravljanja i njihove kritike razvijaju kroz književnost. Više o planu čitajuće grupe možete čitati ovde.

Čitajuću grupu vodi kulturni radnik Nebojša Milikić i ona se nadovezuje na ranije iskustvo programa „Dobar loš z(n)ao“ (Bibliotok, KC Rex u Beogradu), u okviru kojeg je književnost bila čitana kao prostor artikulacije ideoloških sukoba. I ovde nam je cilj da čitanje povežemo sa savremenim pokušajem izgradnje zadružne strukture u polju vizuelnih umetnosti, posebno u kontekstu Balkana i Istočne Evrope.

Prijavite se za učešće do 15. marta, a nakon zatvaranja prijava, svim učesnicima ćemo poslati detalje za pristup Zoom sastancima.

*Ilustracija je kadar iz filma „Fahrenheit 451“ Fransoa Rolana Trifoa, u kojem je jedna od knjiga koje se spaljuju Turgenjevljev roman „Očevi i deca“.

4.3.26:1000

Up at 0645 Overnight HRV: 61 Garmin Age: 49 Body Battery: not enough data

I have bought wine and chocolate to get through the day. As usual. I have a functional alcohol dependency. Which keeps me from achieving every goal I set for myself. Chocolate until mid-afternoon, wine from 5pm. The chocolate is how I have the energy for the day and the wine is so I can unwind at the end of it. Sleep is now the priority. So today's goal is simply:

1) In bed and everything off by 2215, aim for sleep by 2245.

Tomorrow the chocolate and alcohol are going – they both fuck with my sleep, my blood sugar and my mood. I can't give up one without the other as I get so wired from sugar that the only way I can calm down is with wine. It's simply that they both go, or I use both.

I've done 29 days of neither twice in the last year. Third time lucky.

In other news my 64GB phone and 1TB macbook air are both out of storage. I pay for icloud 2TB as well. Wtf is going on. I need a day spare to sit down and go through all the digital stuff I have.

A la guerra guerra con tambores de espanto.

Guerra que te cantan con babas furiosas agitando pañuelos de sangre.

A la guerra guerra por la pera. A la guerra guerra por la canela.

I again fell into the cycle again. I started to hurt pretty badly and I went on a walk and I talked with an LLM to try to process things a little bit more. But again with some help I realized that I’m continuing to fall into the cycle of intellectualizing things to give myself some kind of control and to give myself a way out of feeling what I’m feeling. But at the end of the day I just need to accept grief in some ways.

One thing I realized was that I kind of didn’t really know her. I also think she didn’t really know her. She has gone through a lot of relationships and had told me several times in the past how she didn’t like how a lot of the parts of her personality or interests were adapted from past partners. And I kind of realized also how I imparted some of those things in her. I know that we are somewhat a mosaic of all the people we’ve met through our lives, but I think there’s more of a mosaic of others than herself. I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that growing up she didn’t have much independence, and her parents controlled a lot of stuff for her and she didn’t have much of a say. I think she’s very impressionable in a lot of different ways, and I think that something she’s kind of learned how her own individuality isn’t necessarily a priority but rather appeasement and following instructions, even if they weren’t given.

But again that’s me intellectualizing things, and of course I want to caveat that I don’t know if I’m right and I never will. But it does hurt to think about the fact that I felt in love with someone that might never exist again. If I was to interact with her now, I don’t think she would be the person that she was while she was with me. I don’t know if I would recognize her. And I guess I don’t really know if I even fell in love with another person in that sense, because what is there that existed before me? She wouldn’t want to share her music or her interests even when I would ask, and I realize she really did behave like a blank slate without me asking her to. I remember because I would mention how crazy it was that all of these different things she is a fan of or on board with, and I guess I considered that as compatibility. But I don’t think that’s compatibility, it’s more things like shared values and those aren’t necessarily things she would copy as easily. I got some good advice from my friend that essentially all I can do is really just move on. But it does feel like in a way I was tricked, through no bad intention of her, I never got to know her. And I also don’t think that she’s really gotten to know herself, and it’s a really strange thing. It’s kind of scary how we repeat a lot of the patterns from our childhoods.

Another thing I realized is how I don’t even know if she loved me, or if I just conflated it as love. I know that growing up I didn’t really receive much love at all, and it’s something where little scraps or shreds feel so incredibly heavy to me. And I think that the cycle of her doing something hurtful or damaging, me doing the same thing I didn’t childhood of trying to fix the situation by taking accountability and blame, and then her apologizing in response to that and promising that she would change for the better for my sake. And in those moments I would feel really loved, but I don’t think that’s love and I don’t think that’s safety either. I think because I grew up neglected I don’t really have a great perception on what love actually is, but when I think about it and I think about caring a lot about your partners well-being, wanting the best for them and so forth I don’t think her actions lineup with that at all. I understand that at certain moments she would be very sweet, but I also understand that it’s a lot of the moments she would be very harmful to me. And I think we both spent a lot of time together where we were able to use chemicals released by our brains as patchwork for the problems that existed, and I think I need to reconcile both of the versions of her in my head. I think she did love me in ways, but I also don’t think that it was a true form of love. I think there were too many moments where she did stuff that would hurt me and more importantly she wouldn’t apologize or she wouldn’t try to take accountability or heal the damage it was more trying to avoid accountability and shame from that. I think we both chased the feeling that we got when we were together, and the potential of not having to search any more in the future and finally finding the person you actually are meant to be with. But I don’t think we were each other‘s person for that. We have a lot of fundamental differences, and incompatibilities. There’s a lot of a gap between us that cannot really be fixed, and it’s not necessarily a problem but it was a problem to her. I think also for me, there are a lot of things that I wouldn’t want from her in the partner I would dream of. I wouldn’t want someone who could so casually hurt me or disregard my boundaries, and also not recognize or proactively apologize for things without me having to beg or ask constantly. I would also want someone whose more fleshed out as an individual, and that can enrich my life rather than me just teaching things. We accept the love that we think we deserve. I think that’s something I need to understand, that I don’t currently believe that I am that deserving of love, otherwise I would not have stayed in that relationship and dove in so aggressively. I think I truly do need to be content being single again, and I think I was before, but after moving and losing a lot of stability and social connections that’s something I need to foster. It might not be immediate, and it might not be easy or guaranteed, but I do believe that I can build a life with a rich social network. And I believe so because I know that given nothing as a starting point I have been able to teach myself and learn and fight for so many beautiful things in this world. I am beyond capable and if I put my mind to things I know that I can do them. And so I will. There is the life that I’ve always wanted to live, and I will make it mine.

My body knows things my mind tries so hard to forget. Because of this, I dive into all types of creating and story telling to cope.

It knows the weight of a hand raised too fast. The sound of a door locking from the other side.

The particular taste of silence that means someone is angry and you're about to pay for it.

I tell fun stories because I can't tell my own. I draw because words fail where creation doesn't.

My art is full of teeth and soft things, alike. Monsters with gentle eyes, flowers growing through cracks in the bone.

Someone asked me once why my work is so dark. I didn't know how to say, 'because the darkness is where I grew up. It's what I know. It's where I find comfort.'

Turns out, survival isn't the same as living. That building a mind palace doesn't keep the bad things out. It just means that you have rooms to put them in.

Rooms with locks and chains. Rooms that one day will have to be opened.

Some nights I still wake up trying to escape the monsters who aren't there anymore. Most days I still apologize for taking up space.

Everyday I hand my heart to someone else and beg them to hold it carefully because those close to me deserve all of me.

Even if I'm scared.

I'm the one who stays loyal, the one who forgives. The one who shows up and goes above and beyond because even the momentary spark of joy, that hint of a smile on their face is worth everything to me.

I'm the one that sees through the masks and into the gooey center where the darkness has seeped in.

It's so familiar.

The body remembers everything. But it also learns new things. Like how to love someone who can't love you back, without losing yourself in the process or how to start loving yourself because you really are all you have.

I'm not healed, but I am healing. I'm here. I'm creating. Im picking myself back up.

And for now, that has to be enough...

Let it fucking hurt

Let it fucking hurt, let it consume your thoughts Let it breath and then inhale all of it again Let it swallow you whole spit you out and stand on the other side.

The ego is bruised, the heart hurting, the mind feeling like “I told you so,” the ancestor in me telling me it's time for flight. But here I stand rooted in knowing what it's all for. The monster needs his outlet time to fade away my mind into the physical exertion distraction. Into my drug of choice, where all that ails me quells if not but for a short time.

Bruised, hurting, confused, but still here. And that's something.

My worst nightmare I'll face with eyes wide open and sit calmly in the blazes of my own making and come out of stronger, but fuck.