madsadmadmadmad

I'm sitting inside this same familiar shop, ladies chirping about nothing more than bird shit and coffee aromas steadily making their way into my nose. Will my whole life be a constant struggle with my pen and a blank piece of paper waiting to be filled in to look something like a map to somewhere more exciting than here? My mouth hasn't been able to utter the words I need to spew out the most, I'm only living comfortably but I want to give it all up and I can't do that unless I tell you so.

There is this nagging, heart stinging awareness inside of me that has just budded and can hardly be ignored. I'm afraid, though, if I forget about it for a day the sun wont reach it and the leaves of truth inside myself will slowly start to wilt. The world is a new place for me, I'm disgustingly privileged to be able to sit here and reflect on it. My soul is poor and lost but your bellies are empty and crying out for the love and fullness offered from this intangible source. Maybe we're in a similar boat, it's shitty for me to think that way. I can't live like this anymore, I can't live a life that fulfills all of my physical needs and than leaves my soul twisted and empty. The only solution I see is to give up all of my comfortability and start nourishing my fucked up insides and live with the least, what does multiple coats and multiple dollars and eight pieces of bread do if theyre tucked away in dark cubbards and closed accounts. Nothing, absolutely nothing if everyone can't have a piece of it. I need to get rid of it all.