And When I speak of me, I mean you. You and I aren’t all that different.
What I want to speak of is the warmth found in the coldest places. Shout that only through losing my way in the desert winters of my journey did I know the heat of summer. Fires of passion made the glaciers of my heart more unyielding, I did not melt away. I carry my whole life with me, everywhere I go. This phone I now hold in my hand holds all things about me, but nothing of me.
It wasn’t always so gorgeous. Sometimes I managed to keep myself tucked away and hidden. Trapped on life’s stage I cowered from the spotlight. I was just so tired of all the masks and wardrobe changes. All these voices telling me what I ought to do, the most unfamiliar being my own. Losing grip of myself, I drifted.
I never believed in judging a man’s character by the works of his hands, but I’m lying to myself again. My deeds are my only identity. Through it all, one truth inundated me in the days of my becoming. Weakness is always on the brink of strength.
Empty hands now carry the world.
I am looking into the Mona Lisa face of the earth, I don’t know you, and I never have and never will. It is art to me now. The flow of the waves of life threatened to take me away. I am gasping for air, rising above the surface. I will not be consumed by it; that is not allowed. Fear and faith clash their mighty swords. This is my defining moment, and it will last forever.
The boorish sea of “the times,” separates man. There are those who ignore the current and those who drown. Both are lost at sea. I pray and fight every day that I won’t lose my way. forever more, just stay afloat.