one day you woke up feeling lighter. this was different. this was hope. it made no sense and could not be denied. the following day it was gone. the light was shining and the birds were singing but all you saw and heard was dead again. what stood out for you now was the recollection of yesterday’s hope, wanting another taste of that. so you got out of bed a little earlier. you saw the slightest smile at the edges of your lips in the mirror. you were able to sing some morose song by the Cure in your head.
when dawn came I got myself up and hit the street. you know you’re blessed when all what’s inside you — all your thoughts and feelings stirred together into a psychosocial paste — has the same consistency as a cool and placid sunday morning, touched by sound and light
I no longer have the pride of my youth, but I stand tall as ever. I no long carry the false promise of an imaginary future in my head, where all problems have been solved and challenges overcome. I face the rising sun and realize despite its powerful light and growing heat, it has no edges and cannot cut me. We can therefore have a dialogue over our three course meal. Hardship will never be just a memory and the sun has no gender.