that's how

scrawled in a notebook on April 7

I slept better than I'd thought humanly possible in a hostel room with ten other people and just a blanket on top of me. The secret to sleeping well is being tired. The secret to being tired is to live life like we do– going crazy with the dream of knowing, maybe, someday, enough small bits to make up the big picture. Yearning, we are burning two-ended just to get closer and closer to wholeness. One flame. The tryer I hard… let's try that again: The harder I try to become whole, the more I feel like I'm falling apart. But the smaller pieces I am in, the easier it is for me to be scooped up and given as a blessing to others, pressed down, shaken together and running over. Because that's how I've been blessed.