I think a lot. Some might say it’s excessive.
I draw out the reality in fiction, the truth in art.
I refuse to shut off my mind and be simply amused, so I cannot hide behind a laugh and I cry instead.
I cry for the heroines trapped in hard reality, and I cry for the heroes drowned in bitter truth.
The truth is, I know the reality of looking around and only seeing darkness.
The truth is, I know the reality of despair, because I live in a world that’s falling apart.
The truth is, I know the reality of suffering, because I have not known a day without pain.
But the Truth is, suffering is limited to my days here on earth.
And the Truth is, I need not despair, because this world I live in won’t last.
Because the Truth is, when I stop looking around and look up, I see Light.
So my heart cries for the hardened heroines and the bitter heroes – the men, women, and children I see every day.
I refuse to shut off my heart and be simply apathetic, so I cannot hide behind a facade and I swing the door wide instead.
I draw out the harsh reality and pour in the simple Truth.
I try to love a lot. Some might say it’s excessive.