Dedicated to the memory of Nicole Barbera and AJ Uranowski. May no suffering ever come to either of you again.
After all this time searching for meaning, I've learned we’re all destined for something. We just need to let the rain cleanse us of the muddied thoughts that hold us down. I've always thought that comfort lied in the quiet calm where noises sleep. But the truth is only thunder gives me rest. Do you turn to those willing to listen in hopes it gives you some cognition. Within a bitter nature lies a thirst for change if the right notes are struck. It's a long way down from having enough. And those that jumped lost their fight, but that loss won't come to any of us while we are all here listening to the same songs. Just remember there's always a thought you are in. There's always a hand dying to feel your fingertips. Sometimes it's hard to tell what you can leave behind in dreams. Sometimes everything might not be what it seems. Am I dreaming, or am I awake? I know it seems these rains will last forever, but I'm asking you to just remember one thing. You and I are as much a part of the same thing. And I want you to take your chances with this pain you feel. Instead of abandoning this life and its endeavors, I swear that it can get better. Just let the rain wash all over you. This pain will fade with the days upon each new one that you wake. I swear that one day this world will feel like home. Just let these waters wash all over you. I lose myself in phrasing like we all lose ourselves in dreams. I'm at peace when words flow like the air we breathe. But I've learned it doesn't matter what color we bleed as it does the colors we see. And it doesn't matter what color we are as it does the patterns we leave behind for the future generations to define. Casting hate, darkness aside will free us and others to be ourselves, and carry ourselves, and love ourselves. and I don't breathe a breath I breathe to think that my dreams or your dreams should end in tragedy. For every billion-dollar man, I'll show you a priceless soul that couldn't be bought or sold, that understands the true cost of value. So I leave you to the means we define ourselves by, the struggles we survive and the things that get us by. All of us can spread our makeshift wings when we keep singing these same songs. These skies will clear and with them your sorrows. In a brilliance of colors to call your own. Let rain wash away the struggles. Let the light that comes show us they were worth it all. It was worth it all.