Melancholy leans like an old man on my shoulder my eyes burn with the pressure of worded oceans, my belly is taut with grey thoughts, and spine bowed with exhaustion. Does the body weigh the mind? or the mind weigh the body? Life grinds me into small particles and leaves me dissolved and floating; disseminated by my day, day after day. This repetition wants breaking and re-borning; remove the shadow of the avalanche, circle and rise.
Dare to live intentionally, creatively, and authentically