Stillness is the key.
An essay by a hypocrite.
An essay by a hypocrite.
A work in progress. A tired-eyed wanderer. A not-lone discoverer.
Stillness is the key.
I find myself in poetry, in the gaps between the stories. In small moments to breathe, and the gasp for air, unceasing. In the rise and fall and healing. In all the things that we don’t yet understand and amidst the uncertainty. I see it all and…
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