Author: kidtrish

I am a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an Enigma. Good Luck ;)

There Is a Sadness…

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…that sits with me. It has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It came with the knowledge. There is a period in every human’s life where we live blissfully unaware. Unaware of the things that change us and shape us into the adults we will become. I have always believed that we are all born with the same potential. We are all capable of achieving great things for ourselves and for those truly gifted, maybe the world. People in general, are also hopelessly flawed, {{{sigh}}}. In a quest to fix themselves they often push their failed dreams and inspirations onto their children, or there is mistreatment, judgment, and abuse. I love my family but like most families we had our ups, downs, and weirdness.

My knowledge came the day my little girl soul realized I was not loved or wanted as equally as the others. I have been treated differently my whole life. I am that kid that colors outside the lines. I am that kid that daydreams in your class because I am beyond what you are teaching. I am at that kid that craves to know WHY over everything that I find curious. I am at that kid who will drive you to the brink of anger but, I will not understand what I have done to put you there. I am that kid that relates to you by telling you a story of a similar nature to how you are feeling so I can avoid being told…you can’t possibly understand how I feel. I am a terrible listener, because the truth is I probably can’t or don’t want to because I always felt that NOBODY ever cared how I felt. So, sadness came to sit with me.

SADNESS and I have known each other for a very long time. I am fairly adept at managing it but occasionally just for a change of pace, life intervenes and then I find SADNESS holding my hand, making my decisions, borrowing trouble so ANGER can come for lunch.

Lately, I have been putting myself through the ringer. My older sister passed away in August. While we were not close and really had not been a part of each other’s lives for quite a while, I loved her. My inner child pines for days gone by, when we were children and all of the world’s wrath had yet to unfold on us. (DARK? sorry that’s how I feel) but we all know that life consistently rolls forward with or in this case without you. I hate to cry but as I age, I find myself getting really good at. I do not enjoy when I feel myself welling up over shit that I would not have spent more than a few seconds of apathy on in my youth. Who is this old lady that inhabits my soul? I told you ANGER has come for a visit. The realization of me being the only peep still carrying the colors for my family feels wrong. It makes me feel all the feels, which, if you know me, makes me very uncomfortable with any of it.

I feel a hope rising within me. While sadness and anger are a part of everyone who lives, it is time for them to go back on the shelf with the other time worn emotions of my soul. Negative emotions suck too much energy out of who I know I am. Yesterday, my usual sense of being returned. Things are getting better. I no longer have to be the kid who fixes other people’s problems. IYKYK. I am seen. I am heard. I am wanted. I am LOVED.

Brenda 2004, Mom 2007, Pops 2016, Celine 2021. My family. Tears flow for the love I no longer get to share with the ones who have gone on before me. Until we meet again. You know, I love you, right?

The Bubble

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Everyone that you know in and around your life, myself included live their lives in a bubble. Wait, hear me out. As adults we generally have a decent dedicated small circle of friends and family we lean on, look up to and hang out with. These people are part of our bubble and in turn we are part of theirs. It reminds me of math class when the teacher makes the circles on the chalkboard showing where common variables are within the innermost middle of the bubbles that are intersecting each other. This is life. The bubble changes size many times in the course of a lifetime. Variables change; people come and go, loved ones die.

I have an older sister. She was recently diagnosed with stage four cancer. Our family bubble has always been lopsided. Not perfectly formed, difficult to maintain. Our mother was a wounded soul, who brought that into a family dynamic. Those wounds braided themselves into the fabric of our lives. I often found myself at odds with my older sister. Yes, there were times we truly got along. Sadly, there were many more times when I just didn’t want to be part of her bubble. I have always loved her. I have not always liked her or appreciated her. It is a wonderful thing that love never dies or gives up.

Because I am an ass that holds a good grudge our relationship has been strained for many years. I take full responsibility. She didn’t reach out to me about not feeling well until the rowboat she has been drifting in life with started to take on more water than she could bail. There has been contact throughout our grown-up lives but nothing really meaningful. She moved out of Massachusetts in the late 1980s. Only rarely to come back this way. Weddings, funerals, the occasional “I miss the family” tantrum, and in the grand scheme of things just because she wanted to be loved by her bubble, her family.

I have always been the odd duck. I prefer Swan, but whatever. I was the middle child. I am an introvert. Go ahead and have a good laugh, but it is true. When you experience me in public that is the mask I learned to use for survival. I prefer tangible things that don’t have emotions over people who make life messy. Being this way makes me appear angry and judgmental sometimes. I have never been good managing my own emotions. No one ever taught me. My mother was ALL over the place. Happy one minute, raging against the machine the next. Growing up was? Let’s just say I am adult survivor of our shared childhood traumas. Enough of that. Time to get to my point.

Celine is my sister. She has stage four Breast Cancer. I know very little about her adult life from the past 25 years. My choice. In an effort to create my own (bubble) life, my own version of happiness, I simply did not reach out. I cannot change the way our paths have gone. I am unsure about how I feel. We have spoken. I am at odds. I am angry for us. I am angry at myself. In my efforts to avoid feeling or dealing with my emotions, I hurt her. When in fact I just wanted to exist in a place where peace reigned. Foolish mortal. I cannot undo what has been lived. I am sorry I wasn’t … present in your life. I am sorry I missed the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I have no idea how much time she has left on this plain of existence. I hope she finds peace in her final days. I do indeed LOVE her. I hope our loved ones on the other side of the veil greet her with the love she missed in this life.

4:56 a.m.

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So? My vacation is at that point where the dread swoops in. We all recognize that feeling. C’mon, admit it. My dread woke me, to be dreadfully honest, see what I did there? at 2:33 a.m. I haven’t slept well all vacation, I am not sure why, but it is my truth. Now that my time off is speeding to the finish line, I am wasting time thinking about the things I have not gotten to, that I thought I wanted to do but… great now that I am WIDE awake why don’t I OVERTHINK for a bit. Everything about being a woman of a certain age is starting to roll down the hill, gaining speed as it goes, leaving me with a sense of overshadowing and doom I am having a tough time grasping. Is this all there is? I mean, really?

Dearest Hubster, on his way to the loo, rather grumpily asked me what the hell I was doing. I don’t know? Not sleeping? Gathering anger as I roll? I feel like I am becoming that “old lady parable” and trust me I do not want to be anyone’s DON’T do this to your life list. I realize that it is now today, so yesterday (a mere few hours ago) DH and I went for our yearly eye exams. I have dry eyes. Add this to my pile of things that have decided it is just time to slow down/stop production, as if menopause wasn’t enough fun on its own.

I hate a good routine. What can I say, I hate authority. I hate being told what I can and can’t do. Perhaps that is why I love Alice Kingsley so much from Alice in Wonderland. Life is routine. WE all have routines. Vacation is supposed to be that precious allotment of time when we get to say NO ROUTINES this week. Being an adult though is realizing that vacation is still part of a routine it just plays on a different “media device”, lol. What now? you ask? I am suddenly sleepy, so I am going to crawl back into bed and catch a few winks before the day interrupts further and ruins a good vibe.

It’s Just Another Day…

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Is it really though? Today is my birthday. It is not just another day, well, at least not from where I am sitting. My birthday is what New’s Year Day is to everybody else. I never make resolutions in January but every July I come up with a greatest hits list of things I NEED to do, things I haven’t done, and lest I forget I question my size usually followed with a promise to myself to try harder to be magazine slim and perfect. Life has given me bigger fish to fry this round. I blew out my right knee while having a lunch with my hubby, at work, no less. I mean WTF, nice way to show your age Bertha. Surprise! in case, you haven’t heard I am a woman of a certain age…code speak for heads up things are going to start to shrivel up, become painful or just stop working the way they used to, like my eyesight or my bladder, or my sense of humor.

Somewhere in the expanse of 2024 I just stopped. I stopped torturing myself over things I cannot change or control. Funny now when I think about it. Was this the precursor to my knee giving up? I stopped going on Fb, too many people “putting” their mirror selves out there. NO ONE’s life is that perfect Janet, so just stop, get some therapy, actually live the moments of your life instead of setting up the next great shot. I embrace the fact that when I am stressed out, I DOOM SCROLL Instagram or FB reels… BUT why? just why? I can’t even say it’s just background noise because it isn’t. It lulls me into a nonfeeling calmness? Most days I don’t allow myself to get sucked into that vortex, but I am human. One of my recent goals to not bother them so they won’t bother me. Snake oil salesmen most of the lot. If there really was a cure for meno belly which required ZERO EFFORT on my part, it would be owned by a conglomerate which would buy continuous airtime and Drs. would be pushing that shit like lollipops on a Sunday.

I used to watch ‘The Real Housewives of …” pick one from the franchise. It is the same script over and over, self-absorbed rich women, some have no grey matter of their own (brains), someone is always married to a rich old fop, someone is always: the saint, the sinner, the slut, the mean girl. They are all collectively beautiful and near body perfect. I don’t know about the rest of you but there are plenty of REAL housewives making it on their own, curvy, smartass women you want to hang with. Yes, we all know that there are housewives amongst us that also fit the criteria (SEE ABOVE : the saint…) but our beauty most definitely lies elsewhere. Sorry, sorry see? a gal’s mind also wanders at this point in life. Where was I? oh, yeah, my knee.

Time travel exists only in my mind’s eye. Picture it, January 13, 2005, a terrible mix precipitation hits Worcester County. The roads are icy, but my place of employment has not called off work. Hubby and I trudge off to work only for me to slip in the parking lot at my JOB. I fly through the air. My left leg kicks out in front of me; I fall to the ground leg already broken. I heard it snap. Imagine a pencil you force with your hands to bend until it snaps. Yup. It hurt like hell. I am pretty sure anyone within a half mile radius heard me scream F^*K. I nearly passed out, but I was also angry. I am pretty sure I was adrenalized out to the max so there’s that. I was non weight bearing on my left leg for 10 months. In 2005 I weighed in at about 325-340 lbs. range. Whole lot of PLUS SIZE girlie to balance on one leg. Fast forward to 2025, in my lifetime I have gone both up and down on the scale, I am currently in the 220 range. Yes, I know still too much but I am done chasing a dream that never belonged to me. I am beautiful. I am enough. I am LOVED. I am more than a number on a scale. Why do I bring this up you ask? Hold on I am getting there.

After a few solid weeks of me trying to ignore my leg hoping that things would improve I had to see my primary about the pain and the swelling. X-rays tell this story of a knee that has seen too much and suffered a lot. There is no ice it and go. I need a full replacement. I went to the bone and joint clinic at Memorial Hospital. A very handsome physician’s assistant withdrew fluid from my knee, gave me a cortisone/Lidocaine super shot, told me I was fat without saying it that way and I am too young for a knee replacement. All without ever looking at my history. Really? Of course, I schooled him. I asked him point blank if he even bothered to look at my chart. Assumptions are the worst things to put beliefs in. Until I hurt myself, I went to the gym. I swam, did Barre, loved my yoga classes. But I am round, right? I can’t possibly be fit? Twist brother. My polite way of saying “GO F^*K yourself.

The outpouring of help and support from people around me both at work and in my personal life have been wonderful. I am not too young for this surgery nor am I too heavy. Advocate for yourself. Go after the care you deserve. Don’t let anyone brush off how you feel. What you think matters. If my surgeon would like me to shed a few pounds I will. I have already put in the work with some therapy sessions to prepare my leg for the coming event. This time I will schedule some mind therapy as well to help me get through the depression that might come afterwards. I didn’t seek help after my thyroid adventure, I should have. Lessons learned.

Today is not just another day. Today is my Birthday. I had a grand day. Hubby and I made it a great day.

Never Give Up ON WHO YOU ARE MEANT TO BE

Out With The Old…

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In with new? So more than a few years ago ‘the Spark Joy movement’ started by Marie Kondo swept through the USA and I am sure other well-meaning societies too. Who doesn’t enjoy a quick, easy to use technique for changing a life path? After I threw out numerous bras and panties my hubby asked me to spark my JOY another way. I find myself at the end of another year in this walk of life. We are just a few months into 2025. Just WOW! I moved into a new age decade July 2024. I am now one of the millions of people who are referred to as “old, older, ancient…” I think you get my drift. I would like to say that I am middle- aged but since I know I won’t live to be 120 years old that is a bold face lie on my part. I have always been dramatic about getting older. I have I often feared that time was/is my enemy. I chose that path when I could’ve been enJOYing the walk all along.

Time is the greatest liar. It is misleading and lurks in dark corners waiting patiently for you to notice that you have spent it foolishly. Time can be on your hands, running out, getting away from you. It can be spent wisely and foolishly. Time can be “on your side” or completely against you. It is a cruel prankster and often baffles the person trying to manage what little time they have left to accomplish all of the things on their bucket lists.

I recently read somewhere that if a person is really lucky, they have about 4000 weeks or roughly 77 years of life. This information caused me to spin into the far reaches of my quiet spaces and worry about my time. How have I spent it? How many weeks do I have left? Does my bucket list need to be updated? Are there bridges I am willing to burn/cross to live within my peace? I honestly don’t know how to answer these questions. I never once in my youth thought that I would be where I am now on the cusp of yet another birthday, dreams unmet, waistline, sigh, let’s just say I am setting that pipe dream free. There are so much more great things in my life that are far more important than my body shape. I have held onto that pressure for way too long. And then it hit me…

I AM LIVING MY BEST LIFE just by being in it, being involved in what goes on around me, loving the people in my life. My hubby and I are rediscovering how wonderful we are together and not just as married peeps but as friends. He is my ride or die. The number of weeks left to my life is not what is important, it is who you spend your time with. Take that vacation, hug that loved one, tell your friends how much you love them, spark JOY for yourself. Be in your moments. At the end of a life well spent there should be no regrets, no should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

Never Give Up on the Person You Are Meant to Be

That Feeling, That Catch

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As I age (sometimes rather ungracefully) I am always surprised when a memory or a smell takes me back to a time in my life when everything was possible. There is an intake of breath, a gasp, that catch of recognition in which I usually have an uncontrollable urge to cry. Sometimes from joy, sometimes from sadness, sometimes it is simply from an acquiescence of facts from my past. What a person chooses to do with those memories makes the difference. For years I let my childhood trauma run my life until one day I stumbled upon a TikTok reel that hit me head on. Social media platforms are riddled with fake people, fake news, fake, fake, fake, but every once in a while, something hits home, and I needed some time to assess what I had watched.

Surviving trauma is one thing, carrying around its ghost like an old handbag you just can’t seem to part with is another. My closet has too many ghosts and not enough skeletons. I am happy to report; I have no scandals outstanding. Which brings me to what is currently going on in my everyday life. I always wonder where my overthinking, people pleasing, sadness, anger, disordered eating and snarky dark sarcastic humor comes from. I get it now. All of these things helped me survive my childhood traumas. Everyone has something, everyone. No one is free from traumatic events or terrible people. No one has the right to judge you about what you have personally been through, no one. How we choose to respond or develop is up to us. I only recently allowed myself to embrace this and to accept that it is okay not to rely on old coping mechanisms. I need to own my whys and move on from destructive behaviors. I have kept my life on a broken leash for so long I have spent a great portion of my life searching for peace I already own.

I am no longer a child. The time has come to let go of all the traumas I have carried around in secret for too long. I decided to separate myself from the little girl soul that did what she had to survive. I forgive you. I have learned from you, but it is time to heal. It is okay to let go. I no longer need to rely on those things. I learned to be a people pleaser because my mother was never happy with herself or anyone else. In her mind she was not enough, not good enough, not pretty enough, not loved enough, so no one else was ever enough for her. Her pain was so great that she never learned to love just because. Love because you can. Love because I am enough just as I am. Love because love by itself is enough. It is the perfect gift to be given or shared or inspired or? Love never dies, we do. Love is an action and a feeling. Love is the light in a dark room. Love is what brings people together, a magnet that draws you to its warmth, its beauty. I am on my path to better. I am accepting that my disordered eating is a leftover (no pun intended but hey, there it is) emotional pacifier. Eating should be about maintaining my life force and well-being and not for distraction.

I am pretty sure that I will be hanging onto my dark snarky humor because well, I do enjoy that. Sometimes I struggle with anger and sadness, but I no longer run away from those struggles. I am no longer angry or sad over the loss of what was once a very important friendship to me. When a friendship is built on sand it is likely to wash itself out at the first high tide. The old version of me would have apologized for the failure of that friendship but I now realize no one was at fault. We became different people on different paths searching for different adventures to carry us through. It has become what it is. We had some grand times whilst we were friends. I grew as a person in the years we were friendlies. I will never forget that.

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE

Swim, Swam, Swum

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Towel wrap at the ready I climb the few steps which lead from the ladies’ locker room to the pool. I gently push open the opaque glass door (one never knows if someone is too close to the door) as I walk onto the decking around the pool. The air is warm, humid and slightly pungent with the smell of everything pool. I swim in a saltwater pool, so the chlorine smell and its effects are much more muted, no red eyes, no burning nose, no skin irritation and best of all a longer life span for Lycra Spandex. I always do a quick visual inventory of the pool deck, who is already lane swimming, which lanes are open and of course, check the clock. A huge white faced, red second hand sweep jobber hangs near the far end of the pool opposite the locker room entrance which serves as a constant reminder that time is ever ticking, and the time slot waits for no one.

I place my towel, eyeglasses, and water bottle poolside onto a folding chair. I kick off my Crocs and make my way to the stairs. I try to always reserve Lane 1 or 2. It is just easier for me to access the water from there. I am older. I broke one of my legs some years ago so slipping into the pool from a railing is harder for me. This morning, I was blessed with Lane 3. Well, I was but an older woman was already lap swimming and pretended not to notice me. It happens, bad form on her part. A very nice man in Lane 1 split lanes with me so I could swim. he swam in Lane 2 and I in 1. He even apologized for the old broad in Lane 3. Who does that? He made my moment of frustration melt away. I thanked him and got down to business.

I am not a fast swimmer. My form needs work, but I give swimming my all. I do a mean back stroke and can hold my own with the side crawl. The pool is where I go to be alone. I do some of my best thinking in the water. I like to listen to the beating of my heart, the intake of air as I breathe through each stroke magnified by the water that surrounds my head. The rhythm of the sounds relaxes me. The stress and anger of life lifts. I am able to do 20 lengths before my time expires. It doesn’t seem like much but 88 lengths is a mile swim. I will get there. I know I will. I will be forever thankful to the public school system of Whitinsville MA for making me partake in swim lessons when I was in fourth grade. I was fearful of the instructor, a stern woman named Lorraine. If you are from Whitinsville, and of a certain age, you know who I am talking about but without her guidance I would not be able to do what I really enjoy.

I have never been one to belong to a gym. I do now, this is who I have allowed myself to be. I was never comfortable enough in my own skin to do any of the things I now enjoy: yoga, Barre, swimming, walking the treadmill, stationary bike…exercising. I even shower at the gym and go forward with my day. Who AM I? I guess it is true what is said about getting older. I really have learned that what I think I can achieve is more important than what someone else says (thinks) I am capable of. I have my own confidence, not borrowed or boosted like book from the library. I own it. I am a woman of a certain age. =)

I see you. You are loved. You are enough. I love that you are a part of my world. I am not always great with letting the people in my life know what they mean to me. Call it a weariness caused by a lifetime of letdown from people I should have been able to trust. Some dogs do indeed bite. I love the people who choose to be part of my life. I have residual sadness over the end of a few friendships with people I have parted ways with (creative differences). I am certain that I am not everyone’s cuppa tea. I am Okay with that. Just as I am certain they have since moved on and silenced the whys? of our undoing. This is not to say that my life path has not been blessed with wonderful people. It has. Some people have visited, some have stayed, some came spent time and then went away. I have learned something from everyone who has crossed into and out of my life. I have learned valuable life lessons from each person who walks the path with me even if it is only for a short while.

I am certain that I am living my best life because I work every day at being who I always dreamed I could be. I refuse to give up. Life is a journey don’t forget to enjoy it. There will be many stops along the way but the adventure rolls on. Veni, Vidi, Vici/ swim, swam, swum

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE.

I Can’t Stand the Rain

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The constant tap, tap, tap as the wind pushes the rain into my office window is beginning to irritate me. I know I am in a small minority of folks that genuinely dislike rain, but it is my truth. Rainy Days and Mondays always gets me down… The best place to be when it rains is sequestered inside with books or movies to catch up on. I think the only time I don’t hate the rain? in the dead heat of a summer’s day when the humidity just won’t break. Most times though that rain just lasts long enough to make a mess and change the humidity, not always for the best. Once upon a time when I was young there was nothing like the rain on a summer’s day. Cooling enough to wash the dust from my thoughts, feet splashing in the mini rivers as I skipped along trying to keep up as the rain ran into the storm drains. Curious about the clouds changing from angry to hopeful as I looked skyward. Truly magical to a kid, but those days are long over. I barely cloud surf anymore, though I admit it still holds magic for me. Hope floats.

This batch of rain is misplaced and unwanted. I am trying to embrace the discomfort of today. I am writing my blog. I am drinking tea. I am browsing/ shopping online. I am binge watching Disney. I mean it is only rain, right? I want to think about something other than the howling wind. It is not so dark anymore (9:28 a.m.) and the wind seems to be calming down a bit. SQUEE! 

I believe there will be no snow for this Christmas. It has just been too rainy and warm. On one hand I am happy (no shoveling) but on the other hand a touch sad. I like a white Christmas even if it is just a light dusting. There is something about (probably left over Bing Crosby vibes) the magic of snow which makes me feel as if the Universe is in its proper alignment, lol. I am wishing you all, the happiest of what the holidays can be about. Love the people in your life. You are enough. YOU are loved. You are amazing. Never Give UP ON the Person You Are Meant TO BE.

Why IT Does Matter!

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Whatever your IT is, it matters. Your mental health? Your friends/family? Your IT matters because your situation and your life are unique to you and you alone. Life is your ship to sail. MY “IT MATTERS” because I am worth all of the time, I put into taking care of myself. I chose to be brave last year. I took a chance on myself. I didn’t bounce my idea off another soul. I just showed up for myself. Life is about growing pains. I joined Worcester Fitness; I left WWs after a tumultuous 15-year relationship. Why? WWs has embraced a philosophy I do not agree with, so I jumped off their bandwagon. Guess what? There is life after a breakup.

I love my gym. ME! Yes, I said it. I LOVE MY GYM!!!! I have mostly maintained the same weight as when I walked into the gym that first day for my tour of their facilities. My weight is an up and down battle. It always will be, and I am fine with that. My overall health is excellent, in my opinion. I am learning yoga. Me, a yogi, who would have ever thought I would be doing this? I LOVE, luv, love my BARRE class. I secretly always wanted to be a ballerina when I was a little girl. I just jumped back into the pool last week. I forgot how much I love to swim. I admit I am a touch slow, and my strokes are rusty, but I am having a blast. I grab one of many different classes offered on Saturday when my schedule allows it. I am proud to say I am in my second year of belonging to this gym. I see myself partaking in what this establishment has to offer into my foreseeable future.

Every time I take a chance on myself, it is to find balance within my life, I learn things about myself. Some things I keep, some things I discard, and some things I modify. Sometimes I stubbornly hang onto people or issues in an attempt to fix these things. I have learned that this is a personality flaw on my part. I am working on letting go of people and situations that no longer bring me peace instead of giving in and feeling miserable because I gave in instead of moving on.

I have worked at a TJMAXX Distibution Center for nearly forty years, on a five-day workweek Monday through Fridays. In February of this year, I made a huge work life change. I now work four days a week, 10 hours a day. My weekends are longer (yes, me likey) but so is my workday. It seems like a match made in the heavens but that would be a lie. I love having Fridays off, but it comes with a price. During the week when I leave in the morning for work it is dark. I come home in the afternoon, and it gets dark quickly. The only sunlight I get is on the weekends or if I go outside while I am on lunch. Quite frankly, it has put me into a moody state. The shitty summer weather has not helped either, but the time has come (yes, once again) to haul up my BIG GIRL panties, hitch up my saddle and ride this pony off into a beautiful sunset.

Choosing your own well-being over people or situations in your life that causes undue stress is why it matters. Loving who you are at this moment is why it matters. I matter, so do you. Learn what you are worth. Never give up on the person you are meant to be. Love the people in your life the best way you know how, and remember I am by your side whenever you need me. Embrace the sunshine whenever you can. Be kind, learn to listen. You are enough! You are loved! I enjoy having you in my life. I am thankful for your participation in my world.

A Vaccuum

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What would your life be like without music? A Vaccuum.

Superman track sung by Barbra Streisand from Superman Album; song written by Richie Synder released June 1977

Odd way to start a day. I signed on this morning to start a new blog post; this ‘write a blog post prompt’ was here. This is supposed to be a love song, but this is how I feel about music. I love to sing. It makes me feel alive and like I am part of something bigger and better than myself.

Music makes me realize there is color in my world, that love does indeed exist and beauty is in what you do, not what you look like. I wake up with a different song in my thoughts EVERY SINGLE DAY.

No music is like a day without joy, or sunshine, or love. It would cause a giant void in my life. One I would have a hard time filling with something else.