A lot has been brewing around me and I can feel the energy of it, like the subtle vibration of old train tracks before seeing the smoke in the distance. I’ve been through storms before. Some are terrifying. But some are beautiful. This one feels beautiful. Meant. Past due. Life has felt like a desert for a while now and I’m thirsty for rain. A change in temperature. Lightning. And I hold up my bottle, hoping to catch it.

Because I need to experience something that isn’t almost anymore. So I can dissolve that false belief about myself.

There’s calm after every storm and most people hold on with two hands, desperately waiting for the storm to pass. Because it’s after the storm where they find their peace and tranquility. For me, calm scares me. Silence is eerie. I’ve had too much of it in my life. I start to feel dead. I find myself waiting and waiting is not living. Waiting is dying. I’ll take the risk to be shaken. Again. Because every time life shakes me, I learn something about myself and my direction.

Author of “I Used To Be A Miserable F*CK” and “Single. on Purpose.” IG: theangrytherapist

Author of “I Used To Be A Miserable F*CK” and “Single. on Purpose.” IG: theangrytherapist