Is there a way to find my inner peace,
without completely depleting my fire?
To calm the storm that brews inside me,
without burning out the melancholy that
keeps me writing?
I look into the mirror, and I see an extraterrestrial right now. I can finally admit that I know nothing about the world around me, and although I am frightened I am enlightened. Meditation suddenly makes sense, Yoga no longer seems boring, and the path to happiness is somewhat forming. I see it, in front of me.
I am stubborn while holding on to the unidentified anger that lingers inside of me. It is like an unhealthy co-dependent relationship, not so much like with a lover; more like an abusive parent that you love too much to let go of. Afraid that if they are gone, you will lose a part of your identity. If I am no longer angry, and the happiness never comes…then what happens to me?