Sometimes you have to sift through mountains of bullshit and barricades of chaos in order to clear a path to get to where you think you’re meant to end up, right?

There are so many metaphors to describe carnage- particularly when it’s carnage that is breaking your life apart piece by piece.

Our lives are akin to a half written book, the prologue draws us in, intriguing us- seeming ever so innocent; as the chapters go on it’s not what you thought it was going to be and you start to frown, deeper and deeper until it turns into rage.

So much so, you have to put the book down for a considerable amount of time before being brave enough to continue, but since reading the last few chapters, you’re unsure you can even pluck up the courage to make it to the next page let alone to the epic conclusion of the story.

Put down the pages. Step outside and let go. Let go but dont become numb, don’t you even think about it.

What would you say to your younger self, given the opportunity? Would you tell them the winning lottery numbers? Or would you tell them to open their eyes, to wake up and respect themselves?

Only by doing this can they undo at least some of the havoc they will eventually have a hand in dealing out.

Only by doing this can they achieve a moment of absolute clarity.

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