The Smoke On The Horizon

Did you think I would hurt forever?

This is what survival looks like.

Finale Dates And Times

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The Way Home

Life is a kind of magic trick the body does and once it’s over, you’re left with a hat with a hole in it and a white dove that’s flown away. And it makes you want to say,

“That’s it? That’s all we are?"

But you need to remember: That's not us.

We're the dove, flying home.

The View From History Books

I think there's a way to listen to music late at night on your own that slowly turns you into dust.
I think there’s good in every one of us.
I think we need to forgive the people who hurt us.
I think we’ve all been punished enough.

The Distribution Of Pain

No one tells you that when you forgive the person who hurt you, you have to take a moment afterwards, to forgive yourself, for letting yourself get hurt again.

The Despair Left Behind

Give yourself the space to be sad.

Give yourself the chance to grieve.

Descend safely, and let go of all that you don't need.

Feel only what you need to feel.

This doesn't need to hurt more than it already does.

The River Of Souls

You sleep on a river, made of everyone you’ve ever been, who carried you to where you are.

Every movement up until this point by every one of your ancestors brought you here.

You are a flame alive for a moment.

A frame in something so much bigger that stretches from the first second to the last.

You are a walking miracle and every movement is as pure and incredible as the birth of a new star,  or the death of an old one. Like a god. You float through time from flower to flower, unaware that you are magical beyond everything, in everything you do.

Look at you. Only here. For now.

And in every life, we stand across from each other.
And I always tell you this.
And in every life, I must remind you.

Because you forget just how incredible you are.