It is almost too damn zen for me. This solitary path with no handrails that traverses across this landscape of fate and will.Within the storms and pleasant breezes of this drama's eight winds. I kiss, yell, moan, plead, grasp, deny, bargain, accept every dream, wish, hope, hype, memory, regret, expectation.One promise sits here. Given at the inhale of my birth and will remain at the exhale of my death.Peace waits for my attention between the heartbeats and the trailing breath. One moment, now, here, and void of my adornments.It is a reminder that this is it.

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