Those Lonely Streets by Juliet Rose (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📕

of my sorrow and determination of my ignorant ways, the shimmering voice had remained, ready to save me if only I was willing

. From the inside of the light came an outstretched hand, more inviting than anything I had ever seen.
I stared at it with awe. I closed my eyes, thinking about my options. I couldn’t do this anymore. I knew it, but could not bring myself to admit the fact. My burden had become too heavy to go on. The darkness was too much, it consumed me now; the presence of light was a foreign feeling. The hand beckoned my acceptance. I floated forward slowly, still uncertain. Then, in a second, my decision was made, I could not go on down this pathway, I would not go on. I could stop… if I was willing

. I took the hand with as much force as I could gather, and without a second to spare, we shot upwards together, like a bullet from a gun.
I broke the surface with a gasping breath. Finally, I tasted the freedom once more. I opened my healing eyes to the overwhelming presence of light, remembering where I was; I was alive

.


"Lead me, with strong hands,
Stand up, when I cant,
Don’t leave me hungry for love,
Chasing dreams, but what about us?
Show me you’re willing to fight,
That I’m still the love of your life,
I know we call this our home,
But I still feel alone.

Father lead me,
‘Cause I cant do this alone."

-Sanctus Real

The Gates

The boy could no longer feel. Feel pain, that is. But he had known nothing but pain for so long, the relief of it was like numbness to him. He looked around with confusion, but with an overwhelming knowledge that that was exactly where he was supposed to be. Underneath his feet were clouds unlike any he had ever seen before. Their indescribable beauty shone with resolve, filling him with strength and peaceful understanding. The boy glanced around, taking in his other surroundings. To his left stood a shimmering fountain made of pure gold, and flowing from it came water dazzling as crystals. Intrigued, he moved closer. The nearer the boy came to the fountain, the more he thirsted for its contents. His desire was on the brink of overflowing as he leapt forward, approaching his destination with exceeding grace. Standing at its edges, the boy dipped a cupped hand into the cool waters and raised it to his lips. As he drank, a sudden chill of joy swept through his body, causing him to shine as strong and bright as the sun. Never in all his life had he felt this incredible before… this ALIVE. The young boy had drank the final drink of life. He was resurrected, never to be torn down again. His joy was immeasurable. He must share this joy with his family… his friends… with the whole world!
But where were they? He glanced around questioningly. In the distance, the boy’s new, strengthened eyes could see golden gates shining with amazing brilliance, warmly inviting him to come closer. He took a step. Never had he felt something like this; an airy lightness glided him along the path to his destination. The path was narrow, but never once did he think about retreating. He kept his eyes forward and focused on the light. He longed to touch the gates, to absorb their deep light into his renewed self. Nearing the end of the pathway, the boy leaped with all his might to shorten the distance between him and the gates, reaching out his hand with a burning desire to hold them in his grasp. It felt as if he had been searching for them for as long as he could remember, and they had been there, waiting. They screamed Freedom, Joyfulness, and Love. These were things he had been blessed with on earth, but to fully enjoy them without the fear of Confinement, Sadness, or Hate had always remained an unreachable fantasy. Just then, his delicate hands folded around a gleaming bar of the magnificent gate. Every emotion at once seemed to flood through his gentle form. Knowledge, Peace, Understanding, Joyfulness, Healing, Innocence, Love. Everything a home should bring. The boy could only laugh a thunderous laugh of joy as the overwhelming emotions bombarded his soul. He did not stop laughing until a voice shook the clouds beneath him, and the atmosphere above him.
“My son, welcome home.” He knew this voice.
“Father, you have blessed me beyond what I deserve.”
“I have blessed you only that you could bless me. Well done, good and faithful servant.”

And the boy was home.


Dedicated to a recently lost friend, he was truly a blessing to this world. Love you, Luke.

The Circus of Tomorrow

It was night time, but I didn’t sleep, I never slept. My racing thoughts kept me wide awake, strangling me with the intensity of their grip. Sitting up, I resolved that I was getting nowhere in the maze of my mind, coming to dead end after dead end. Right when I thought I had the perfect path figured out, a hedge would grow in front of me, blocking my path. All I could think of was the thoughts of tomorrow, and what the rest of my life would bring.
Freedom.. Independence.. Possibilities.

But with the freedom came the Expectations.. the Worries.. the Fears.

Fear of failure. What if I failed? After wishing and dreaming of freedom for so long, what if I couldn’t handle it? What if I’m just not good enough…
I couldn’t think here, in the cramped space of my bedroom walls. I had to leave; I would grant my mind the freedom it had been longing to receive. I stepped outside, feeling the crisp night air hover against my skin, brushing the loose strands of hair off my shoulders to hang long across my back. Where was I going? I hadn’t thought about that, but something in the night seemed to guide my path. And so I walked. After a while of silent thoughts and shuffling feet, I reached a bend in the road and turned to the left, onto an unknown street. The night was dark, and menacing, almost inviting me to hide in its blackened crevices, never to be found. I contemplated the idea. By now, I saw the park that was, I suppose, my destination. My eyes began to play tricks with my mind, putting me in the midst of chaos when I was in complete tranquility. Not a sound but the draining of water on street corners penetrated the nights glare. But I was in a circus. Images of brightly colored sets and wild animals filled my vision. Wild-eyed children ran everywhere, marveling at every aspect of the lively scene. And there I stood in the middle of it all; trampled, unable to move. My life had run over me. I was a prisoner to the expectations it had set. I was a worrier, a seeker of what tomorrow would bring. I always forgot to stop and absorb the present, to live and bask in its security. It was exactly what its name stated… a present. A gift that I was constantly rejecting.
I walked over to a small, man-made pond near the entrance to a wood of trees. Bending down, I stared at my reflection. Dark brown locks cascaded past my shoulders, almost grazing the surface of the murky water. I saw deep blue eyes overflowing with knowledge, but accompanied by sadness and confusion. Confusion of the knowledge that was really unknown. These emotions, plus many more, gathered themselves into a single tear that glided slowly down my cheek and broke through the surface, creating a ripple that seemed to disturb the entire pond. I didn’t want to cry. I hated it. My long, dark lashes began to clump together as I blinked away the sudden tears.

An hour of weakness.
A week of tribulation.
A month of success.
A year of pain.
….A lifetime of worries.

How foolish. Tomorrow is not guaranteed to me. Today should be my focus; the here and the now was all I had for certain.

I left the park with a new understanding… already, the circus around me was beginning to clear.


"Staring all around me the clocks wont stop ticking,
I know I’m losing time,
But what can I do?
Another day of life has been cast into yesterday,
I’m racing forward,
But what can I do?

I hear the clocks tick faster with every breath I try to take,
Maybe if I stop then the clocks will stop too.
I hold my breath but their hands are like icicles,
Freezing me in place,
I’ll never win this race.
What can I do.
What can I do?

Stop and smell the roses,
take in every detail,
When you’re on a mountain,
Remember how it feels.
Never say you wont to the things that you haven’t done,
Take the day by the hand, and just run.

I see my hour glass waiting on the floor,
The sands keep falling when I ask them to stop,
I feel like panicking, running out the door,
But at the end of the day I can't run anymore.

Remember at the end that you have lived all you could live,
Remember at the end that gave all you could give,
Take the day by the hand and just, run."

Imprint

Publication Date: 08-12-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Thanks for the inspiration, friend.