To breathe is a gift we often overlook
though each day we are granted this ability.
Today, breathe deeply, fully
and accept that you are worthy,
to breathe.

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To breathe is a gift we often overlook
though each day we are granted this ability.
Today, breathe deeply, fully
and accept that you are worthy,
to breathe.
I recently came across a post stating, “this is a bad year.”
Though I don’t disagree that bad things have happened this year, I can’t fully commit to such a bold statement as the entire year being bad.
Or perhaps, I’m just looking at it from a more critical standpoint?
A protest for example, is a collaborative effort between cultures standing together for justice.
The police force has made efforts, though not always headline news, to reinforce their code of conduct: to protect and serve.
Most citizens are respecting the rights of others, choosing to wear masks, in the fight against COVID-19.
The government is making attempts to sustain our American way of life through relief programs and continued unemployment benefits—even though at times it may feel like not enough—granting enough security to survive.
I’ve seen a number of portable facilities spring up in mainly homeless areas of Los Angeles, which does not solve the issue, but certainly shows hope.
What I am getting at is even in our darkest times, there are signs of hope.
Hope which we can and should not disregard as a complete and utter bad year.
If anything, I’d say, there is an awakening taking place.
What I see from an observers eye is an awakening of people who, regardless of the hardships, struggle, and inability to make concrete sense of all the senseless acts that have been occurring, realize a need for change and progression forward as a human race.
We are all struggling, regardless of another’s grass, I repeat,
we are all struggling.
But with struggle comes realizations. And with realization comes understanding. And with understanding comes progress.
Through common ground and communication I know there is hope, for you, and I, and the suffering on all sides.
It struck me odd today when a friend told me they envy my ability to travel where in turn I assured them, not everything is as it may seem, and that I too am struggling, only I choose a different point in which to view my current state of awareness.
You don’t have to travel far to climb a mountain or swim in a lake, or wake to see the most beautiful sunrise, or even lend a hand to someone less fortunate, because these are natural and always there waiting for you to take action.
Rather than saying, “this year is a bad year,” I suggest taking a deeper look and the time to realize that progress is happening.
And though progress may seem difficult, remain hopeful, my friends.
Be honest with yourself and your loved ones.
Greet a stranger as he were your family, with arms stretched wide in abundance.
Be the light at the end of the tunnel, the light which shines even in our darkest of times.
Be the air of peace in which we’re all capable of breathing.
Be courageous. Be kind. And be hopeful.
It’s become abundantly clear through time and misfortune, not to be confused with the physical form such as money or objects, but rather with the exploration of self, the embodiment of peace, and the idea that expression can or should be limited or contained due of a value system built out of fear and intolerance.
Most of our lives we are given what can be thought of as a safety net of ideals—paths to follow, standards to meet—to make life “easier” or conducive to the perception of others.
Rather than present ourselves the way we deem fit, the general standard is to be as the chameleon—to do whatever it takes to fit in—who blends into its surroundings for survival.
Well, for myself, I’ve learned to accept and reject that pattern as it does not allow for growth.
I’ve grown everywhere from upside down to sideways and still have come to the conclusion that no matter how hard you try, there will always be a group, a banner, many men and signs who will make it their duty to mock one’s freedom of self.
I accept myself.
Further more, I applaud myself.
I look in the mirror and examine an ever changing life force composed of trial and error, love and appreciation, a life force who has exhausted himself to live his truth, that is…well…hell if I know!
I’m still figuring that out, one moment, one step, and one portrait at a time.
Thankfully enough, I’ve been blessed by an equal partner, a beautiful guiding spirit of light and love to help nurture my venture to freedom of self—Ariel Rachel—who does not judge but embraces my eccentricities as I honor and trust full heartedly in hers.
I highly recommend letting go of inhibition, being open and honest with yourself, others, and showcasing who you are, each and every day.
Be well my friends. I look forward to seeing you for everything that you are, today, tomorrow, and in future discoveries.
(This was me, 2:25pm, August 31, 2020—happy, and holy, and released)
Hate is easy.
Love is hard.
Truth is the only thing
that will set you free.
Freedom is man made.
Man is weak.
Women are God’s strongest creation.
God is love
and love conquers all.
I would never hurt you.
I will always honor
and respect you.
My love, there is no room
for anything more.
The light in here is bad
The shadows hang their heads
I’m tired of this playlist
I’m tired of this bed
In sheets that are not mine
Busted strings don’t pass the time
The shadows hang their heads
In light of what they find
Am I really headed backwards?
Static fills my head
Am I really headed back there
Like I’m the walking dead
So I light the wick
And turn the page
Familiar is this pain
The light in here is fine
The shadows are just that
Perhaps I’m feeling better
Perhaps I’m coming back
Always and forever
Never fine
But
I’ll make it perhaps
You see,
the kid doesn’t forget.
Forgive, yes
but forget, never.
Kids don’t make the rules,
but they’re a product of them.
And no matter what you say
after the fact,
the fact,
is still a fact.
No matter how old you get,
respect isn’t due
remember,
it’s earned.
You see,
enforced respect holds no weight.
Power, yes
but honor, none.
Kids don’t make the rules,
but they abide.
They see,
and survive
no matter the so called times
that they’re raised in.
You can try, but
you just can’t fool kids.
No matter how old you get,
right is right
and wrong is wrong,
things never change.
Except for the kid,
you see.
Unlocked.
A brief wave of empathy.
A surge of relief.
Icy cold goosebumps.
Cover to cover.
Nearly 600 pages like chains.
And now, Freedom?
I beg to differ, you see…
The shackles leave marks,
indeed.
Deep reddish grooves on ankles, on wrists.
So tender, the flesh.
They are much more cozy than I see elsewhere.
They are much more honest, you see…
I leave them off a short while.
To make a sandwich. To use the loo. To make chump change.
But know I must put them back on again.
Because freedom isn’t frolicking aimless as a loon.
Freedom is trusting the sincerity of our chains.
Knowingly, locked.