I sit on the chair…
The armour heavy against my body.
I sit there staring at the clock
Two twenty one AM.

I felt so tired

Not the sleepy kind. So tired of all the pain. Tired of all the shootings, the violence, the pain. Tired of clinging to a life of nothings.

My only solace the armour tightly hugging my body.

Many times I felt that sickening sweet melancholy. Being angry and hurt, and being too tired to express it. Fighting against the currents of life, not being able to swim to shore.

“Every story has a moral, if only we can find it” -Lewis Caroll

The moral… the lesson to be taught…

Yes, I had felt melancholy many times. Then I would rest… That night I got up from the chair, went to bed armour and all, got up the next morning with a fire in my chest. I was fired up, ready to fight again. Fight harder, fight smarter.

When push comes to shove, SHOVE LIKE HELL!

That sickening sweet emotion like cough syrup curing one’s sickness. We all feel it from time to time. All feelings have their place. Feel it, let it pass, then change your situation!

Since then my life has turned around. These days I find my rest with my nightingale. She is the shelter to my storms. The melancholy only existing in my memories.

I hope that you will find your resting place, that you will have the strength to keep going forward.


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