The words seem so far. The rhythm which wrapped and warped and freed my soul seem bumpy. I've spent too long reading too much. Ingesting the opinions of others and allowing my own voice to wither away. Leaving me here in the middle of the night grasping for it not because I'm dying inside, but because I want to breath it in, to pull that intangible piece of spirit into my equally impalpable being. There are so many things in this world I just don't have the knowledge of to formulate an opinion strong enough to argue about. Vaccines; Presidents; Politics, to name a few. Many things I don't understand, and even more things I embrace on feeling alone. Because it simply feels right, at the time.
Do it because it feels right. Do something because you've spent enough time in meditation, in prayer, in stillness, in quiet... in whatever the fuck opens your spirit, your heart .... to know what's right for you, then. Do that. Then move on. Let it go. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Find what speaks to you innermost, honest and pure self. Do you know what that is? Where it is? How to hear that voice?
I've written a couple of articles I thought were almost awesome and submitted them to your local online article distributor, but because I used "you" they felt it separated the reader and the writer, and told me to re-write, re-vise, to change my piece to better fit what they felt would be a better piece.
Needless to say, I haven't gotten published yet.
With Grace & Gratitude...
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