Ashes. We all fall down.

Sometimes you look across the table and don’t like the person you’re sitting with.
Sometimes you look in the mirror and don’t like the person you’re sitting with.
Sometimes it looks as if you won’t like anybody for a while. Or anything.

But you can show up. You can always show up.

And on mornings where your chest feels hollow and your face feels heavy the best you can muster is to keep breathing deeply and do the next thing. Offer your hollow chest to God. To Love. Make each hollow step a declaration of faith. I will keep showing up, dammit! I choose to love with everything my hollow self can muster!

And it will (you know) get better. Much better. And it will (you know, eventually) be worse. Much worse. What can you do but keep walking?

Ashes and Dust. Ashes and Dust. Ashes and Dust. (A day early, even) I am a blessed pile of ashes and dust. And I keep walking. And showing up. Ha! Fuck you, Satan.

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