When I examine the traces I left in the soil, I can only see my footprints outstretched in the weathered path I’ve walked in the last fours years. Though, most are obscured in the shadows of fallen leaves scattered upon the serpentine hill. Why four years? I physically lived beyond such little time but I saw the birth of who I am and growing to be four years ago when. My pen, weak and fragile, was easily broken; my words still in the muck. Repaired by tears, fortified by a promise.

There’s sixteen days left in this year. An old cycle host to change, calamity, defeat, and triumph. Not simple in personal lives but the collective of our race called Human. The time of celebration is close with the advent of a new cycle, a new year. 2016 was a special year for me, a time that will help pave my future. I would say it’s like a dream, but for me dreams are an extension of life. As you lucid dream, manipulate and create your own way as you are awake.

I’m proud of my progress and of yours, my friends. Step out of this cycle with pride, walk tall into the next. Even if you didn’t achieve what you desired, growth in ones’ self will remain. Build upon what has been obtained and exceed yourself.

Until next time,


Author and Novelist; an eternal seeker of self.

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