Somehow in the darkest coldest moments, it’s our anger that keeps us alive. Fighting the frigidity of a ruthless world savaged by apathy and ego.
Rage burns the bullshit in our life so we can make a bold mark on the wall of humanity. In our cave, handprints are stamped together for one purpose – love. But not everyone contributes. Some cower. Hide beside their familiar to take care of them while never truly growing because they fear to be seen in shadow as they step away from someone else’s light – to make their own.
I’m grateful for the comments on my last blog post.
I’m grateful for the emails because of my last cry into the night.
I’m grateful for space (not silence) given to me during this evolutionary advancement in my journey.
Yes, I was narrowminded and isolated in my approach. Locking myself in solitude to deal with my troubles myself. But the truth is, no one has to be alone when they’re battling life from all angles.
I get to choose. Even though my whole life I’ve been told if you’re not going to be grateful for what you have, you’ll end up homeless. It’s the pride of these projections that would win should I have accepted the abusive construct of homelessness. And not the obvious help that’s being offered.
I took help.
I accepted money.
And in 48 hours, I returned to familiar friendly roots, writing this to you so your heart can rejoice alongside mine and the work of love, light and color can continue into the new year.
I’m safe, and I ask that you be too.
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