Nothing Compares

Art is home. I am truly at the end of my rope. Exhaustion sits on my chest at varying weights throughout the day. Two hundred years ago today (or is it tomorrow?) England ended slavery. This exhaustion that intertwines both my mental and physical energy must be what it felt like to be a slave. I can't imagine going any deeper than this, but they must have. They must have or I wouldn’t be here. I will move forward. I owe it to them. My life, even as it presently is, is something they couldn’t even dream about. Tomorrow their courage will be the only reason I get out of bed.

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