Crawling on all fours, horse-like who maybe was injured in a mighty war or fell down running a cowards way out, I don’t know; I pick up my crushed ambitions, shattered pieces of my glass soul-piece by piece, careful of the sharp edges I gather them all. That mountain size heap scares me more than the lumbering ghosts of regrets and paths not taken. The view forward is blocked with my unshed tears and crumbling determination. I feel like I should give up.

I wish to give up and be free of this heaving burden of dreams, my dreams I am carrying. But the fear of sinking back into the black hole from where I pulled myself out, dawns on me and I panic. The anxiety and horror are too much to bear. I see a tiny light seeping through the cracked hole of the dump pile I created. And I remember. I remember why I strapped myself with this impossible task. Because moving back or stopping was never an option.

So I glue my determination back and staple the leaks, banish my demons and through that blinding pain I walk. I walk forward. The mountain that loomed above me before, seems like just a pointy stone my feet needs to bleed on. And I bleed. But soon I stitch myself and move. Forward. To my next mountain. For my next bleed. There is still a lot of blood left and a lot of experience (of stitching myself back together) under my hat. I am all set and I will not stop till I bleed my last.

My New Year Resolution is just to bleed. Bleed and keep moving. What’s yours?

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