As free as I feel, I’m a bit sad. I have an inexplicable hold around my spirit. I have Stockholm Syndrome from myself. I'm scared that I’ll always feel this small, but I'm more scared of the probability of being as big as I could be – as big as I want to be.
I'm sitting on a roof surrounded by greenery, wilderness, life... The world is so big in California. Could I ever be more than a few inches tall here? I've learned to grow only in my cage as I know it. When the door opens, I look at it and feel like I can fly. But then the world I see looks back at me and I forget... I just forget who ever it was I wanted to be.
Discernment: It’s an impossible practice if I can't even be free from judgement against myself.
Who the fuck cares about me, if not me? Why are you sad? Do you even know? Why are you yelling at yourself at this very moment?
Be sweet. Be gentle. With yourself. Like you are with him.
Could you die never knowing what you were capable of? Or could you live to become the person you were destined to be, even if it kills you? How does the sun feel? How does love feel? Still so many questions need answering.
Why would anyone put salt in their latte? To be that, you have to learn that. Since when are you the teacher?
Write down what you're afraid of:
being forgotten
being fake
being forgotten
being real
birds
masks
discernment
him
Anything else? Get it out before it gets you. If you can feel it, it's real. No need to explain any further.
