A Moment Of Rest

Taking a break can either be a hard lesson learned or a moment of relief you use to clear your mind after being rattled by life itself. But, regardless of your stance is on rest every single vessel on earth needs, our bodies will let us know when it’s time to hang up your pride.

Ask yourself. Can you run an entire 24 hours without huffing and puffing all the way to a refrigerator full of donut, Pepsi and chocolate ice cream fuel for a body being melted of its calories? I know I can’t at this very moment! As much as someone loves to paint pictures worth an infinite amount of words, how long can they keep up that stroke before their arms feel like 50 pound dumbbells crashing down on a sweaty gym floor? How about writers with wrists cramped by the joy of scribbling words every single day for hours on end? Escaping any kind of rest is deemed futile by a body stung by woes of exhaustion. The Problem for some of us is that taking a break from what keeps our mind together can be strenuous, agonizing, hellish in more ways than one…

I don’t know about you, but I can’t imagine a life without the magical gift of writing a story of your choosing. Living life without a pen and journal by my side is an inferno of melancholy I never want to be burned by. But, what happens when you’re body begins breaking down, taking away your sanity piece by piece as it gets harder to wake up and brush your teeth without wincing? What is there to do when the pain coursing through your body outweighs the need to formulate a sentence together? There’s only one thing. Rest. Lay down and sleep for your own damn good. And, I definitely learned the hard way while relearning how to shut my mind off as an overthinker myself…

But, like the saying goes. How can you be a writer without experiencing life first? I forget who said it, but, they were spot on. Keeping myself cooped up in a room that felt like a sauna for 6 days a week just writing my heart away was actually beginning to be daunting. Since writing was my only outlet, I would either skips meals entirely or just buy some McDonalds in the morning before everyone woke up and filled madly fill the streets just to avoid human contact. All I did was stay awake jotting poems while keeping an eye on the clock for the exact time I can guarantee a walk outside while most are still indoors. Along with McDonalds being my only fuel, having little to no sleep for days, my body would not let me write without vomiting my guts, throwing my back out and going through many moments of delirium where I forgot who the hell I even was. So, after some time, I finally gave in, taking more time to close my eyes and dream of a life I would love to bring into reality when reopening them…

Nonetheless, when your ass is kicked by realities of rejuvenation, though, life is much clearer and brighter. You learn to sit through emotional pain with a smile rather than staying on attack mode until you can’t fight back your demons any longer. You realize that dreaming is just as important as acting upon your ambitions regardless of your current circumstances. Because, as bad as we want the paradise we happily conjure in our minds during times of turbulence, how can you ever paint such an image without ever searching through the twilight of your incandescent soul?…

Peace & love ❤

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