fourty-one

So the world continues to turn, life goes on. Nothing stops just because I feel like loosening my grips. The fact is, time is unforgiving.

My faith is a mustard seed, the smallest seed in the world. Unsuprising to many, I cannot feign any signs of deep understanding of this faith I have. Many call it a blind faith.

In some ways, it could be. Too often I have put too much hope in this faith, too often I have let my questions go astray, floating in the cytocolic substances of my brain cells, too often I have let it that way. Too often.

So I take a step back. I take a step back.

To rediscover (or uncover) the definition of me.

I will pick a fight and fight, I will allow myself to be challenged.

I will rebuild my bridge, smack a fly and make lemonades, and I will pick up my bag and walk the path, sprain my ankle and stand up.

I will. and Yes, I can.

Sometimes, I wish I would speak. I wish I have spoken. I wish I have. I wish I know a way to speak. I wish I could write in details. I wish.