When you fight all the days of your life for something and that one thing seems a million miles away you instantly start to question why you even started in the first place. The next moment you'll toss and turn in your bed sheets because they are secure and tangled and then you fear you'll suffocate, much is this alike to life and to fear is to never allow yourself to breath. My thoughts just ran and ran because it was the beginning of all beginnings, and new things were happening and I was becoming more alive and willing to exchange in risks and dare myself to be brave. I could tolerate my world, but I could never tolerate feeling like I hadn't succeeded or bent over backwards without my own claws coming to punish me.
We were like two wild rebels living to create without a breath of knowing if we'd see the next bit of light, we were the out siders and the colliders, looked at like dreamers and aviators of our time, adventurers without the book to finish the last sentence, but we were fire starters and we believed that lying down one day within the ruins, we would know we tried everything.
It's the stranger in myself that I yearn to know, it's that belief and sanctuary that I live in between the lines and I'm more alive living their then not at all to appease them. I am fruitful and fully aware of my labors and I have clung to myself all these years without the certainty and restitution of one ounce it would all be ok. Not one voice has assured an artist they'd bring fruit to the table, not one hand has led any man to their kingdom. The only time I know truth and peace is when I'm in my element and then I wonder.. if all we become are quiet legends, then the destiny is at peace and I'm free again..