Sunday, May 5, 2019

5.5.2019

 The strength in me is the strength God puts in me. I store my strength in my muscles every time I go to workout. I sweat out all my pain and dreams and doubts. I love singing in the rain and the color green and acorns and burning ember and candles lit to worship Jesus and wearing headbands and the cacti in the desert and the sand when I rush into the ocean and let the waves get me high. Beautiful things give me strength. I keep this strength with me for a rainy day or when I have to go strange places I have never been before and try not to care that I might get lost.

I love to work out because I want to be an archangel. I want to be a warrior of God. I want to lift a car with one hand and jump off of a rushing white waterfall and flip into the rocky pool at the bottom. I want to swim and train and train and train.

I don't understand anymore why someone would want to put chemicals in their fucking lungs instead of dancing wildly on a sandy beach and running into teal waves that crash hard. Why soar secretly on black wings with bitter acerbic white dust running through your veins contaminating your blood, when you can fly for real in the ocean and in sunny lakes? Why sit there getting high when you can dig your toes into the sand at the beach, when you can dive under the water and dig for sharp seashells? Why not sit and cry, why not sit through the pain, why try to escape?

There is an arcane buzzing in me. There is a spark that lights me up and I go running after it. There is a yearning like the water, and I run fast towards a beautiful horizon.


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