My head aches, my eyes burn, my arms and legs have given up, and my face in the mirror has a greyish cast. All I want is to speak my truth. To be heard, with all purpose, to be acknowledged. To be seen, in all colours and all deformity. To be liberated. And yet be tolerated, and even forgiven, for my failures. And that is happiness without thought. To work with pleasure; when tired, given rest; when hungry, being fed; when sad, restored. Not excused, but loved. Because each wave that rolls onto the shore must release back to the ocean. I am the same. Denying this necessity does not remove it. So I teach myself to let go. To realise that, sometimes, the best thing to do ... is absolutely nothing.
