Steer clear, and stay true.
A year ago, we stood in this very same position… Oh, but what a dramatic difference.
We’re being threatened with eviction, for the second time this year. Except it hasn’t brought us down. Yes, we are plum out of our minds with the madness of entrepreneurship. Even with the strain of retaining stability for our daughter, we don’t care for the 9-to-5 and a “cup of Joe”. Money is meaningless, and moments are priceless. She sleeps so sound, knowing we’re around.
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Executive Summary.
How does one encompass the entrepreneurial ideas of four years progress…
By knowing that is what will make our break.
Because there is no “or”.
Not in this life we’ve chosen.
Feeling what it is, to chose.
Between life and death, or mere insanity.
Those are the paths that falter.
To flourish!
The path leading on without fear of dieing,
or losing our mind [for it has been lost and found].
Solitude in living life; no dread and depression,
despite what surrounds.
…The strands we build our strength on…
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My parents and their purpose in my life.
Always a feasible possibility, that the next time I hear word of either, it will be in notification of their passing. I hold onto that reality, as tight as a hug I hope to have from both.
I have higher hopes for the world as a whole, than them as individuals.
My Mother has gone off without a trace, once more. My door is always opened, but my walls are built blunt.
Father. With the many dreams I’ve had of him, I have recently topped them all…
I am not sure that such a dream needs to be shared. Though, I feel the constant urge to bear a “share-all or nothing” policy. Purely for the cleansing of my own mind, and the opportunity for others to hold a wholesome perspective of me.
… A challenge in the realm of sleep, can be to defend. A punch will often fall short of force, and simply nudge the offender with a smile.
Wouldn’t say I was defending myself in this instance. I was angry with my Father’s heartless half-brained remarks, and distant stare. When someone appears so lifeless, it’s hard to even distinguish if they’re alive.
There’s a part of me, that can see some as a waste of life. Living lifeless; Zombie culture of our present. Those that feed on the rest, for they’re beside themselves with bitterness. It’s a slow and steady deterioration.
Suppose I just wanted to beat it out of him. Force can seem like a remedy; the results are ruthless. Rage may play a role, but my heart isn’t up for the toll.
The brutality of my dreams doesn’t give down-trot to my day, anymore. A message is clear, and I bear no fear.
