THE JOYS OF WRITING: Silver Linings


As soon as I sit down with my hands to the Keys all inspiration seems to evade me.

Some find their monsters are terrifying, but I find mine simply confounding.

Maybe I’ve faced death one time enough he no longer scares me, simply another hard to swallow reality.

I’ve found, these pills once swallowed become a part of me. Immediately affecting the world as I see it.

Believing what you can’t quite see visually, is a leap of faith not meant for the faint of heart.

If I lose my footing that’s on me, but knowing it won’t stop the demon I’m fighting from riping into my weakness, threatening to tear me apart.

It might sound scary if my bet wasn’t based on a brighter assumption. I’ve shifted my view to a different horizon. Choosing to believe is key to ending suffering. If I ever want to be a part of a panoramic shifting, my ego must first concede to co-existing. If the toll for accepting my role calls for me to tread through the gutters on crusts before reaching my goals, let it be, I’m searching for humility. No one else needs to see my struggles, it is not secrecy but decency from me to you, my gift is the extension of the smile I wish to see in the face of my own trials.

Acceptance is key, my bowed back begs for pride’s flow to recede. Humility comes in the afterglow, in light of what I now know I would never assume myself less capable of things on either side of people’s dreams.

I try to imagine better while witnessing the unraveling of a horrible scene that apparently I alone am seeing. Together the pieces leave me wandering the desert, wondering where I might find the silver lining.

Try though I might, I can’t find insight like my two eyes convince me against my reality, it’s once they close I open up to my universal heartstrings, it’s there truth resides. There when things grow quiet, hidden in plain sight waiting for me to get over the harsh bite, endure the pain and test my might by letting go.

Forgiving those who’ve laughed at my flights, their hatred isn’t my fight. My misery is on my own hands no one else’s shoulders are meant to bear my frustrations. That’s why I only go out when I feel inclined to struggle past my own moods and exude something better. Making someone else’s day sweeter is medicine for my soul.

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