I form the letters onto paper, hoping to make sense of what I am, what I’m becoming, what that means. The rhythm of my breath, how it connects to the steps I etch in my mind...I’m no longer alone in this. Eyes open, and it’s all right before me: that same patterning that haunted me into a different level of consciousness, and I behave as such. I pledge to uproot the stale layer that stains the timid surfaces of our existence. Inject light into the spaces that bring life to our faces. Honesty: it’s not some far-off oasis only to be inhabited by the tear-shedders, the hopeless romantics. It’s a platform that raises us above the thick muck of complacency, and I won’t say my piece without it. The parts of this machine, the micro-functioning code breakers, rebels, risk takers, hold authority to leave me or pull me close. What remains in my control is this machine’s ineffable efficiency. We are well-oiled, full, available through all our darkest envelopes, and I ensure that. I am responsible as both a leader and a healer. I hold that space when the edges of myth and reality become blurred. And together, this intricately woven organism adds breath where it’s desperately desired. Information where our collective consciousness falls silent. Clarity in the relationships between ourselves and every other. Art in a world so deeply wounded that the bodies which inhabit it are numb to their own needs. A refining, redefining of value, so that we all understand our integral worth. That’s the noise that gets made as my life is lived. So be it.