You Have Hidden Long Enough, Isn’t Time To Spill Yourself ? Maybe To Showcase The Little You Think

A life-changing epiphany.

A complication.

A trepidation

that even in 

the insurgents,

the ones with 

bottles and bottles 

of red pills,

the Mavericks.

Within them,

lies those 

still 

enslaved by 

the very fruits of their rebellion.

The wanderer children book concept art illustration

That distance might be a protective barrier, built up over time because things felt too overwhelming, too painful, or too complicated.

Maybe if they try noticing the little things—the way the air feels when they step outside or how the light looks through a window. These moments can help your friend reconnect with how they feel without needing to rush. It’s not about forcing yourself to 'fit in' or ‘be normal.’ It’s about acknowledging yourself and giving yourself permission to gradually re-enter the world at your own pace, without judgment.

hope this is okay

plus any time your friend needs a chat they can email me here, just a chat free, no subscription just two humans talking

guys

what does it mean if you hurt someone

and

you don’t feel anything

…

asking for a friend

…

If they really are bad people to them, I think, personally, I would cut them off. I believe friendship, beyond help or fun, should at least aim to be good—something one can lean on without judgment. So if they don't get that, then what is it for? Maybe the escape here is to stop the pain they cause.

But that's just my take, not something they should rush into. Plus, thanks for being there for them. Step by step, without forcing things, you can help them realize how some of what they do might hurt others. Slowly, gently—I’m sure they’ll overcome it, my mate.

guys

what does it mean if you hurt someone

and

you don’t feel anything

…

asking for a friend

…

Birds flying out of there nests, the sun unwrapping itself for the day some geniuses are being born and some are breathing there last. In the same chaos the fearful are sneaking into the world as if they can do a thing or two in it. Others fearfully in defeat escape it, they have lived it all not as they wanted but as fear mapped it out for them.

I waited for a "go, do it," but all that came was "boy, don't do it."

I waited for a "yeah, that's my boy," but all I heard was "shit, what you're doing is shit."

I kept waiting for their acceptance, until hope faded like the day into the darkness of the night.

And so, I accepted myself, invited myself, and cheered myself.

To say it right, the cake was baked by me, and eaten by me. Full stop.

My prayers, oh God,

seem to be answered

by the devil.

When I prayed to make my momma proud,

she was taken instead.

And when I asked for the voices

inside me to quiet,

they raged,

trying to burn this

little brain of mine,

ordering me to do

things,

things that could drive me insane.

God,

should I pray in an opposite manner now?

The heart goes cold. The heart grows old. The repetition of moments be it trembling or joyous. The heart loses it all in the end.