Sunday, March 08, 2009


Because instead of a light being at the end of this tunnel, there is me.

I have to remember to breathe when you make that face.

You're the only reason I keep on coming home.

"When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. As far as I can tell so far, it seems to involve lots of foreign travel and not having to get up too early in the morning."
--Neil Gaiman

Today I found myself staring at a nowhere pinpoint on the wall in front of me, silently whispering to myself inside my head, Breathe in. Breathe out. Just...breathe.

It was one of those uncommon moments. Those times when you don't wish for something else. For even one thing to be different. When you have no other needs and no worries. Where your insides are calm. And everything you were ever restless about, anything that had ever given you angst, is quieted to stillness.

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