Dried flowers hang above floating books while fresh ruby sunflowers dress the space below. Coffee wafts in the air from a candle I lit while cleaning as I dance and sing along to my current playlist. For a moment I forget about the stresses in my life that climb onto my back like a live action caricature. I haven’t developed some new tactic to control the fear and darkness flowing through me but rather I found something worth much more than surviving simply with masking or restructuring who I am for the rest of the world. I found the one who makes me believe in magic, the way I did before the universe beat me down. I may struggle and panic myself into another galaxy but I feel safe when you’re near. To fight my demons, to dream, to hope and to love. So fuck you for that, but also thank you.
P.S. Does this count as writing?
listening to Tenacious D from The Croods a new age