New clothes won’t fill the void. Money won’t make you happy. Attention won’t heal past wounds. Things won’t finally make you feel better. If it’s broken its broken. These are distractions from the real work.
Every day we keep telling the same stories. Over and over. We forget that our endings can be different. So can the plot. I think it’s time for some surprise endings.
It’s possible to be all the parts of you that live in your heart, brain, and body. Not divided into containers. A giant messy wait of authenticity. Where you are all the things. All the time.
Tell me to calm down. Go ahead. Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me how it actually works. Try to make me feel small and insignificant. But I see you. For the insecure, power clutching man you are. Good luck. You need it.
Knowing you’ve got my back is everything. When we were sleeping till noon and binge watching scrubs. I never could understand the complexity of the future.
