There will be days like this one. Not warm enough to fight. Not bright enough to shield from. But with incessant dripping acid drops that corrode every spot of your spirit. When every impatient word lands like burning shrapnel on your skin. And when every thoughtless action & every unreturned call comes back to scream up your sense of unworthiness. The rain makes it so there’s no peace to be found in silence. The heat blinds & confuses your path. There is no stability in the grey. You must endure the instability.

You must find yourself in the ragged breaths between sniffs. You must recognise yourself under the bedraggled clothes & the careworn spirit. You must seek yourself in the weeds that grow even as they weather indifference & a lack of welcome. You must make your place in a universe that says you don’t belong. Because if you’re still here, you have a part to play, a place to fill. Maybe your job is to carve it out. You must endure the labours.

Maybe it’s time to befriend the repressed feelings. Maybe the real journey is in the twisted paths you’re knocked into. Maybe you are more than your wounds. Maybe you are something other than the burdens you carry. Maybe your validation of that is all that matters. What is endurance when you aren’t defined by your worries or your labours?

Just breathing.

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