Yesterday, I felt like giving up. Not on life because I have learned the beauty of it, but rather on my writing, a thousand voices shouted down my one and encouraged me to continue. Each and every one of you is beautiful.
I felt like my heart was crumbling. I felt my words were stale. My mind-numb. I remember how it felt to be a walking corpse. I don’t want him to die in vain. Let his absence inspire me. The world grows quieter without these dissenting voices. I want to yell and kick and cuss. Make myself heard.
(And burn and burn and burn like a Roman candle.)