Although this is intended to be mutually interactive, there is a reason behind each of my entries. Today, I have decided to make this entry about me, just a little.
I remember a morning when I was going through a series of heartache and decisions. I remember a time in a basement, where my heartache was so thick and unfortunate that I could not take the pain.
But I had to.
My so-called life had changed in an instant. My life was heading in an unknown direction and worse, I was alone in more ways than I could handle.
I lost myself. I lost love. I lost friends and, more to the point, I lost my way.
I was too sad, too hurt and too confused to understand what was happening. Again, I understood the reasons for my pain. I understood this from an intellectual perspective. However, my emotions and mindset were off, to say the least. 

So, in the middle of my passive breakdown, I needed to hear something. I needed a sign. I needed something to bring me up or encourage me—but in moments like this, I find it sad but funny how every random song can come on and somehow remind you of your losses or remind us of better times that will never come around again.

There has to be a beginning. We all start from somewhere and, of course, there are times when we need help or we need to figure out when or where to begin, or how.
I have been writing to you for years now. Most of this is for me. However, there is hope, which I have, that somehow or maybe in some way one of my entries can reach out and find someone at their moment of need.
Same as I needed to be inspired, maybe this can find you at a time when you need a push of your own. Maybe something I might say can (or will) motivate your or push you to the point where you are inspired to change.

It wasn’t so long ago, at least I don’t think it was.
Youth, I mean. And ah, to be young.
(Again)

There are certain people
who we encounter
we keep us young
or who make us age.

What would you say or do if you had the chance to go back and do something over again?
How many times have you wondered about something like this?
What changes would you make?
If you could redo your past and reshape a memory, what would this be like?
Where would you start?

I recall the advice I’d get when I was younger. I remember the common suggestions from older people. And of course, I would roll my eyes.
I remember being told that youth is wasted on the young.
And it is.

We all know that life happens. Life comes with twists and turns, and even more; life comes with peaks and valleys. Of course, when we least expect it, life shows up to remind us that we can either be strong, or we can cower and hide or be weak and submit.
Life happens.
We all know this
Life happens, which is the nicer way of saying that shit happens, and when it does, what are you going to do?
What is the difference between someone who succeeds as opposed to someone who stands by and watches their life sink into an abysmal waste?

What is it that sets us apart?

 I don’t suppose you remember me, or maybe you do. After all, I am the same as I have always been. I might have changed as far as my height is concerned.
I’ve grown some. I’ve gained weight and lost weight.
I have moved from town to town, and I’ve had a few different jobs.
I’ve lived a few different lives and worn different hats and perhaps I’ve worn a different face from time to time. But trust me when I tell you, I will always be me.

This is how life can be when we look or see ourselves as unworthy, or less-than.
I say this openly because I offer this as a means to expose how insecurity can destroy our ability to be happy.

Who doesn’t want to be happy?
Who doesn’t want to feel content?
Who wants the world on a string?
I do . . .
But first, let me expose a truth, or should I say my truths, which I hope to call relatable, and more, please allow me to illustrate how insecurity degrades us, and like a weed, insecurity starves the flowers of our hopes and truths.