The spirit that walks with you walks with me too. I’ve heard it in salvation’s rings. Though I know: every living person walks alone. Our stone is not in tune; it’s no damn use. We spend money we don’t have just to try to laugh. We spit on the debt accrued and call it rude and feel so blue. I bet one little bag on the life I had just to try to laugh. I walked from the path that’s right in the bit of light that made my shadow shed. When I confidently cried my eyes to red, I felt all right. ¶ I find it strange the process of feeling shitty about writing. I can sometimes get so overwhelmed by how pointless it feels, reading it back. But I think as long as I try enough, I can find something like truth to say, something true to me, and that somehow is bearable at least. Maybe its being true to me gives me something like hope. I’m not always so sure. Even if it’s a sad truth. But I have been very happy to walk. I will walk alone for however long it takes to get somewhere. I am very happy, to walk.