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I need to breathe.

It may not require more than a second.

But it is something I need, insist upon.

I am sorry if you must continue.

I am sorry if you cannot spare a second.

Move along, perhaps again we will meet.

I just need this moment, this moment to breathe.

Take it in.

Lungs filled with life, conflict, possible resolution.

Always possibility, rarely certainty.

It is not certainty we desire.

We loathe it.

It is something we resort to when we are scared.

When we are alone.

In moments of prayer.

This is not the case for those of good faith.

But I am no such person.

I believe in a lot of things, static things.

Practiced religion is not one of them.

This isn’t to undermine their value; phenomena really.

Faith is a difficult thing, for any man.

Hope hangs heavy on a heart left alone.

But are we alone? Or is alone what we deem ourselves when we are without love?

Like fireflies in the night we chase love with our nets hoping to catch lightning in a bottle.

Sometimes we don’t even know we’ve found it, until we have lost it.

Never forget to take each moment you need to breathe.

The clock may be ticking, but I age to my own accord:

A passing of time that corresponds with experiences, not breaths.

This life of mine is a journey; one that I will sculpt in my image, and no one else’s.

Units of measurement divide this world into two,

And like the Metric system I choose to be different, I choose to be me.

I will move to the beat of a tune that you may or may not experience the pleasure of.

My chemical makeup will not be corrupted by high society and their make-up.

I will paint city walls with my words, and souls with their undertones.

We are all meant to be lifted; perhaps it is simply a question of by whom?

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