realizing how weak one can be is a revolution.
know the end. know the dirt. know the blood, know the shit,
the sweat burning in your eyes, and move forward anyways.
realizing how false the eminent posturing had become.
I will not kneel to your vision just because it is in front of me and others do, but I still love you.
why do I concede my knowledge of an often hidden strength that grace allowed me to know. the ways in this world I have seen are worthy of the most innocent child's eyes, if not too ancient to be understood by them.
My roots my strength They were given to me but then I redesigned them. They got reborn twice since I got them. I can see the way of a long ago form evolved into an almost modern world.
I know what I know I am what I am. letting it go makes me stronger it comes back to me.
Realizing how weak I am was a blessing.
knowing the depth of the fall you can gauge the rise.
-Ed Tajchman, Dec 2013
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