I opened my eyes to look at what I was told should never be.

Que explosion.

There is no set pace, no heartbeat, no rhythm. Every act is a gasp for air.

“How brave are you?"

It is not what we do or where we're going but who we are along the way.

How many parties do you throw a year? One? Two? Literally zero?

We must believe our purpose is worth the exposure and pain of achieving it. If not, we will forego our purpose to protect ourselves.

I will never fully know anything I’ve done.

Disappointment is a heavy gift. It clouds vision and closes eyes, peer pressuring us to exchange abundant life for perpetual sadness.

Comfort paves an easy road to surrounding ourselves with things we know we can do.

Who I am and what I do is enough. Right?