Another opportunity to reach out within myself to find purpose beyond where I am now. Every day is an opportunity to reflect and grow, even in subtle, small ways. A chance to be more of the man I desire to be—a healthier, more available version of myself, not only personally but for my son as well. What have I done to make strides today beyond rest? Have I followed the truths and admitted to myself what it means to be more whole? Have I reached beyond myself and looked inward at where I can grow or how I could grow? To be better, to be healthier? Or am I still struggling to push past my own vision and stay in a place of comfort and conformity? The hard truths are often not the easiest to swallow, but I need to be free to explore them. Pushing boundaries and letting go of what I think I should be in order to make way for what could be. Every moment is another opportunity for me to be honest, yet who looks back at the progress but me? Is that enough? Will I ever be satisfied if the only one to appreciate the growth and sacrifice is myself? I know that the cause is a noble one, and I need to remember that it isn’t about what growth I can see now, but the seeds I choose to plant in others and the world around me for something greater than myself. The seeds of change, the moments of growth—so others may grow. Even if just one, the ripple effect can be seen across universes. With courage, conviction, and the belief in the greater good, all things are possible, even if not within the veil I will live to see. Lonely, separated, and focused, I am in charge of doing what I know is right. It is what I can control, and it is as it should be. I must be willing to step forth and create a new vision. Even now, as my words seem to fail me, I must trust that these words are the words I hold to be true in the depths of who I am on the inside—not the man I perceive myself to be in the outside world, that strange and surreal world of confusion and misdirection. I must trust that I am, in these moments, who I truly am. That what I say is a reflection of my core, and who I am is what I wish to be externally—with value and honesty. A vision of what is possible, if not for myself, then for my son—to give him a sense of security, value, and belief that he will always be enough and never owe me anything in return. For the life I live was never truly my own from the moment he was born. I may have taken longer than desired to come to this realization, but back then, I was but a mere boy, unaware of where my decisions would lead me. Perhaps it was through those trials and tribulations that I could grow through the darkness to become the man I needed to be in order to lead as I do. A version—or thousands of versions—of myself had to die so that I could, through the alchemy of self, shed the layers and become even more of the vision I never knew I needed to see. Guided by my past’s future, I crumbled a kingdom only to realize I was never meant for a world designed for such hatred. May these hands help tomorrow as they once poisoned the past. More than the sound of silence, the screams into the void make no waves. The void—endless, consuming, a vast expanse of chaos and noise—devours all that dares to speak within it. And yet, like a moth to the flame, we are drawn to it, compelled to yell into its abyss, even as our voices are swallowed whole. It is both our demise and our rebirth, a cycle we cannot resist. We return, again and again, hoping that perhaps this time, our voices will shatter the glass of noise, rippling outward beyond reason, beyond the infinite, leaving something behind that might finally be heard. But forward—past the void and into the depths of myself—I find a light not of my own, and yet always lit by my own hands, forcing me to walk forward toward the shores of tomorrow’s dreams. I stand strong against the winds, against the reeds, and fold forward, blending into the masses to become more than a statue in fear, but a symbol of purpose—a reason to pick up where there was nothing left, to rebuild from mere fragments. Even now, as my mind slips and fades, I hold these images tightly, like grains of sand slipping through my grasp. The wind blows what’s left into the fields of eternity, and I am at peace knowing that these seeds were never for me, but for the journey beyond the stars. A single moment in an eternal travel. May I find more reason tomorrow, just as I find reason today. (edited)

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