“I have seen men, choose violence time after time. And in turn, I have seen violence choose them.”

This year has been heavy. Not meant to be carried alone.

Past lifetimes do not concern me. Whatever memory succumbs to be forgotten, is one I do not aspire to repeat.

It seems to be, that there are dual reasons why justice is rarely given. One, too little evidence. Two, too much.

Some days are heavy. Not meant to be carried alone.

Toxicity isn’t always a harsh tone or a bruise. Often it’s a “this is who I am.” Often it’s a “I’ll change” Void of when.

Never give a human the job of making you happy. Some days, they might call you sick. Other days they might call quit.

I have felt warmth in lies, and coldness in truth. This is how I know that morality, transcends the physicality of temperatures.

Fear, is a curtain telling you she’s a door walkthrough.

It is the silliness of youth to trust time.

I used to believe that living is doing, moving, getting. But, there is life in staying still. A bird is a bird even when she isn’t flying.

No, I’m not one to go in pursuit of happiness. It is common knowledge, is it not? That what is chased after will run.

We were purple, one day, we felt whole the next day split apart into red and blue.

What’s lost, can be found. What’s broken, may be fixed. But what lives in denial of either of these will remain as it is.

A problem ignored, has two outcomes. The illusion that it is gone, and the reality of one problem becoming more.

Be careful out there; I hear humans get killed for wearing the wrong skin.

Every human carries a heavy past. But the good thing about what can be carried, is that it can also be put down.

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.

Be like a flower that gives its fragrance even to the hand that crushed it.

Appeasement is feeding the crocodile, hoping he will eat you last.

We know the road to freedom has always been stalked by death.

If you die you’re completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on.

Salt is born of the purest parents: the sun and the sea.

The price of failure is just too great to imagine.

Our lives are like the wind or like sounds. We come into being, resonate with each other. Then fade away.