Inspiration is a way of telling our sorry tales of when we lost hope and gained it back. A way to show everyone and everything that there was a day the pain resided and was left to hang in the air. No one left to undertake and smother in the dark. To share a way to make it out alive; to share the way we kept our hearts beating and why. These things are solid and cannot be broken, twisted, or silenced. They speak to the world, to the heart, and to the soul. They are the vibes the hippies wish society never lost hold of. The lies that whisper into our ears and our subconscious blocks. The way our eyes paint what our imagination can’t capture. The way love aches more than anything but is worth anything. The sarcasm and sad truth to many, is just and simple. It is necessary to move forth and conquer. What might have been has slowly been transformed into something better; if not better then more acceptable and necessary. The things that drift are things we might have pushed. But the way we cope and take in these things is the person we are. The person we wish to be and the person we will be sorely lies in the hands of our choices, of our thoughts and of our dreams. Sorrow creeps and heartbreak creeks, but these things light up a bigger picture.