Notes of A.M.T

One chance one dream one hope one detour one voice  one book one painting one hour one decision one prayer can change the trajectory of everything.

I am exactly who I'm supposed to be. Why did it take decades to see all I could become with a little belief? There was no need for boxes, I always outgrew them. Every wall I erected to protect myself, I ended up climbing over in search of connection again. 

From fingertips to footsteps, No quiero lo mismo. From choices to consequences, No quiero lo mismo. From desires to destiny, No quiero lo mismo. From rest to reason, I want what sits in the cavern and fits in the mold of my own soul. I don't want the same thing.

Appearances can be deceiving, and whether it looks like it or not, there are people who want to help you, there are people who want to love you and keep you safe, there are people want to see you happy and whole.

It's a privilege to write and connect, to make mistakes and have regrets, to fail because at least I tried, to love and have a friend by my side, to listen and understand, to give and then close my hand, to laugh and to weep, to be alone, to recover from ailments and sleep, the joy of the creator of all rest in my soul, giving me appreciation for things both great and small.