highway.

I've been watching you, for awhile now. Talking yourself in and out of the trip we both know you must take.

Sitting in the vehicle meant to conquer your dreams, revving the engine. Your tank so full of desire, it's overflowing with fuel for the future.

Dammit, take your foot off the brake.

I know goodbye is hard, but saying hello to a new destiny will make up for it, I promise. The road may look long, but the longer you sit here, the more gas you are wasting. Why risk running on fumes, when you have more then enough energy to make it if you go now?

This is your highway to happiness. What are you waiting for? Drive.

sleep.

You say you're "tired of it all." Yet, you drag yourself through life like a zombie...repeating the same dance, day after day.

You say, "Someday I'll do it. Go after that dream." But, your "some days" are turning into today, and they'll soon become tomorrow's past, which is yesterday, then you realize in panic:

Poof. They're gone forever.

So, wake up. Right now. Be your dream, while you are conscious. Create your fate, while you can still see. Make it a reality, while you still have the ability to "do." Or, risk waking up to a feeling of despair, and a blank book of "what ifs."

Fill the pages. Live. Regrets don't exist here. Only lessons. Beautiful, living, breathing life lessons.

<3

~~~

push.

Ready to leap.
I approach, with confident steps...only to stop at the edge of the airplane door. My parachute firmly in tact, safety precautions in place. I pause, muscles ready to jump, and...
Nothing.
Breath leaves me, tears form. "I can't do it!" I cry.
I whip around hysterically to yell at the lot of you, "What if it doesn't open? My chute? Then it's over...I'll die!"
You step forward one by one, to hold my hands, brush my cheek, a force field against fear.
Whispering, "Is dying really the worst alternative? Or not living?" I open my mouth to answer, when suddenly I feel my balance shift.
I'm flying through the air.
You pushed me.
You PUSHED me when I told you not to.
How could you?
How...could...?
Wow.

I love you.

mud

Those flowers...in the distance, they will make you happy, eh? Now, explain this to me. If your happiness is over there, waiting-why in the world are you standing here, instead?

Yes, I see the hill. It's a tough trek. Mud in the way, making progress slow.

But friend, in the end, which option is really the hardest?

1. Making the tiresome journey, but finally smelling those bright blooms, the ones calling you all these years. Filling your heart with accomplishment, love, and strength.

Or,

2. Living your entire life wondering what those vibrant colors feel like in your fingers, wishing you could drink in their scent of warmth and merriment. Always feeling an emptiness of the unknown.

The excuses you make are only preventing the true joy you deserve. Who cares if in the end, flowers fade? Savor the feelings and keep them forever, use them to guide you towards new gardens, paths, and prairies full of promise.

Flowers fueling your fire.

Who cares about a little mud?

flight.

You. A fountain of smiles and pool of energy. Constantly showing eyes of compassion and the embrace of strength to others. Reassuring them, the future will happen...no use forcing life into fast-forward.

Putting your hands on my shoulders you speak in an even tone, "It will happen. I have no doubts. You will do this."

Your words work magic and lift me up. By the time we are finished, I feel my feet leaving the ground. High on the taste of your friendship.

Wait, why are you still on solid ground? Come up here with me. You did this. You helped me see my true self.

I notice your defeated smile. Empty eyes. How did I miss it? I've allowed the kind words to blind me to the most important thing. You.

After all, you weren't really talking to me...were you? You were talking yourself into something great. But, lacked the faith to strap on those wings. Please, look in the mirror...utter that magic spell again. I only wish you treated yourself as well as you treat your friend.

soldier.

The cold outside is no match for your desire fire, burning deep.

The chaos around you can't compete with calmness within.

And the naysayers and dream killers are no match for your starry eyes, determined smile, and soul...in this moment.

Soldiers for the surreal, we are. Warriors, for freedom.

Off to a combat in the clouds, where guns fire fairy dust and bombs blow our minds with ideas of inspiration.

One by one, the militia will follow. You leading the charge.

Bringing your faithful following closer to the light of good.

Step up. I know you can do it.

Share your strategy. Move us to act.

March.