Safe Not Saved.

Starting is hard. Staying is harder. For me. Ending is glory holes and beachfront property with a perfect sunset and tan. I've spent my life romanticizing The End. I can't wait for most things to be over. How do all of these people out there in the world accomplish goals? I made a grocery list last week with Hemp Milk scratched across the top and the song remains the same. Let's see if this will be a turnaround of sorts for us and for me. I want to melt lifelong icicles and stop feeling that the only place to be safe is Alone. I want to crack open and stay that way. Gold dripping from my veins like glue.  Peel back layers of perceived perfection and show me your Garbage Pail Kid soul! 

My writing style is weird and inconsistent. This is me trying to conform my usual stream of terrifyingly fast moving consciousness style prose into something fancy like an essay. To fit upon the pages of a book someone flips through softly. Like a someone who has restraint and a daily journaling habit. I want to join the different voices filling my head into a chorus of light championing my arrival. Let's dump those head stories out and sift through the sharp and glittering pieces. 

Starting makes me nervous. I just want to shed a paper doll of myself to leave for your amusement as I silently slither away. I hide in holes and trees and under the thumb of a Gentle Giant who lets me blame him for all my problems. He lifts his thumb up because he loves me.  Exposes me to the Sun because he knows I'm brave. Okay. Tick tock it's time I'm ready. Ready to feel safe. 

I

"Let's not wait til the water runs dry. We might watch our whole lives pass us by..." - Boyz II Men