Daunting as it all is, the hardest part is getting out of bed in the morning; Convincing ourselves to leave the warmth of respite for a world which leaves us half dead and empty inside, once and once again. We grow stronger, more accustomed, true, but on pace with each inane demand, that's trickier to do. So we seek someone to lean on, earn our achievements by halves and thirds and say that helping helps the helper so it all evens out. All at once we wonder how our actions could ever guide another through this fog, and if someone somewhere will ever reach out for us. I'm here, I showed up, I'm waiting, tracking trails of tales of deeds when life is in the doing, making mine no life at all. By comparison it's easier, smoother, simpler, and would I rather spill my blood? Yes- for souls aren't lost in losing, just carelessness and falls. Toss it all in the fire, my friend, let's see what you can do.
