the birthplace of thought is the dream. a fantasy about what might be. sun-soaked and holiday bound. summer slips into a place of reveries, and the cold air sticks to your fingers without your consent.

you close your eyes to get stronger in the places you are afraid. there’s real promise in standing in the settings you fear most, you become indestructible in those places. you conquer it in your mind before you every bring it into the physical.

and when it finally gets here, you are stronger in the broken places.