La mia luglio

After all the inhaled smoke, the late-nights-shooting-the-shit, the childish pranks, and the Hummer limousine rides over and under the lit up Brooklyn Bridge, I'd have to say I've had one hell of a July. First day to start, my clock struck 22 years. And though I am one year closer to my death, I took one step closer to life.

The cold shell was my security but I could stay put no longer. 

I wondered, "What does it mean to live fully? How safe is it to feel completely?"

"This is dangerous," I thought, afraid. 

I was suddenly thrown into a chaotic blend of who-are-you and what's-his-face whilst the comforting warmth of my bed beckoned. Who were all these strangers and what were they about? In less than two weeks, we became the best of friends. We hated but at the same time loved. We sang, we danced, we fought but we felt. We differed, but in ways that pulled us together. We did, not solely for the sake of doing, but for something that sparked within us to follow. 

They left as quickly as they had arrived, carrying my one beating organ halfway across the globe. In the flash of a single moment, I was there. There as much as I was here, thinking,

"This is where I belong."

On an adventure of laughter, of smiles, of tears and turmoil. Of walls of dominoes, perfectly aligned, set only to crumble. Of a violent storm over bitter seas giving way to the brightest skies. A journey through

pitch black darkness 

that starts once you close your eyes and lend all trust to your instincts.

This is Human.

This is Life.

And it always begins with Today.

Thank you for teaching me so much.