I will be fine.

I will be fine.

I will be fine.

I recite this like a mantra all day. My thick skin has dents from the hits it’s taken. My tearducts have caved in themselves.  My back has involuntarily slumped from my weariness. My breathing is jagged with each inhalation. I’ve paced a million circles in my mind from the thinking. I’ve drawn lines from one circle to the next, trying to connect the dots, trying to cheat the system, to find an answer. 

I’ve had some setback today with regards to my writing. I’ve reviewed my plan of action again and again and haven’t found my weak spot yet. But I have an assurance, a naive sense of hope. I’ve thrown my hands up, whipped my head back and said I’ve had enough. But I know I’ll be back. I’ll be back swinging. I don’t have a plan, a road map or a clear head. But I know I will persevere.

In the words of the great kendrick Lamar, “We gon be alright.”

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