S.R. Crawford

I__ trying to figure out if you know something that I don__, or if you__e really this stupid. You might be older and therefore a lot stronger than I am, Sphinx, but I am a mother and a lot more pissed off than you.

Relationships take work. It isn__ true love if things go smoothly.

For me to simply tell you to find your life__ purpose, would only worsen your anxiety, not make it better. But that__ not what I want you to do. I simply want you to realise that there is something to be found. That your calling is still out there, and that__ why you might be unhappy.

What do you want? What do you want?...To see the world burn, and a new one be born from the ashes_

Letti wasn__ born to pass through the world. She had been born to sit atop of it.

A fortress doesn__ fall unless its towers are weakened.

Don__ you just love meeting new people in new places? It means I can be whoever I want to be. And guess what, sweet__art? Today_I choose to be your worst nightmare.

Long ago there was a little boy who lived in the wood with his father and his sister. One night, the three of them were out collecting firewood when they heard a low, delicate whimper. The father realised it was an injured animal and ordered the children to fetch water from the lake, whilst he followed the sound. Hours past but the father did not return. The children became fearful for their father__ safety and in their moment of fright, they disobeyed their father in order to find him. And find him they did. However, he was no longer the man he once was. Both his eyes were slit through their centre, oozing blood down the paleness of his face. His neck had been torn open. The entirety of his midsection was split but nothing, not one, single organ, seemed to be left within. Each limb still remained, however they had been dragged, with some exceptional force, in the opposite direction to which they were designed. The children screamed and ran, though the image of their father__ mangled corpse seemed to chase after them. They slept. Within the whisper of the wind came the sweet tune of a woman__ song. The little girl awoke to the feeling of happiness, security and motherly love that the song carried with it. She needed to find the woman it had come from. Leaving her brother, she took off into the wood to try and find the singer. The little boy quickly entered into a spit of panic when he found his sister missing. He didn__ know whether he should call out for her, look for her or wait. But waiting could mean the worst, he thought, and so he took off into the woods after her. He had searched everywhere, every dark corner and decrepit tree, before reaching the lake. The moon reflected off its black surface, which drew his attention to something bobbing within the ripples. It was a leg. When he caught sight of the foot, the boy fell to his knees. He recognised the shoe. It was his sister__ shoe; his sister__ leg. Soon enough, the other body parts came drifting to join the leg, forming a rough manifestation of what was once his sister__ living body. Firstly, there was a head facing down in the water, then arms seemingly blue under the moonlight, and lastly a torso coated in her favourite dress. He felt sick, lost, terrified to his very core. Just as thoughts of never being whole again began to pain his chest, the boy heard the snapping of a twig behind him. He dared to turn around but all he found was a small, black-furred wolf. The wolf approached him timidly, whining deep in its throat to say to the boy that he too was lonely and afraid. The boy put out his hand for the wolf to join him and they sat together. Perhaps he would be OK. Perhaps all that had happened had led to this; something new. He rustled the fur of his new friend, starting with its back then its ear before going under its snout. His hand touched something wet and sticky. He drew it from the wolf to get a better look, only to find a crimson substance now clinging to his small hands. Blood. The wolf turned on the boy as its eyes became a pale blue before thwack! He tore the boy__ face from his head_

Being the people we are, and feeling the way that we do, getting excited about going somewhere new can be terrifying. Of course it is, I get it! But if you don__ travel, you__l regret it. Your soul will forever be empty.

You__e probably wondering what the heck I mean by __he Pillars of Your Life_, right? Well this is simple. It__ the things that make your life what it is. The things or people that make you, you. There__ work, family, your hobby, your art, and your traditions. Except, some of us have wonky pillars. Some of us give one pillar too much to hold, and the others not enough. One__ too tall, whilst the others are too small. Therefore we become unstable, and sometimes, everything comes crashing down.

OK then, picture daddy; whenever you__e afraid just close your eyes and picture me. I__l be all that exists in your world and I promise to protect you.

I still need you. Killer, boyfriend, friend, whatever_I need you in my life_if for nothing else, to show me that it__ OK to be broken. It__ OK for things not to be OK.

You are a blue rose, Letti. Itâ__s almost impossible that you exist amongst the other roses but you do. You bring wonder to those who are lucky enough to find you. The blue rose is lonely, lost and awaits someone special to believe in them; the same feeling I got from you the day we met. Blue roses are incomprehensible and mysterious. And so are you.

Relationships take work. It isnâ__t true love if things go smoothly.

Beautiful things have been broken before_

You__e not fine. You__e not. And that__ OK. The first thing I want you to do is to finally tell yourself that it__ OK not to be OK. To accept that you__e feeling badly and that something isn__ right. Too many of us are in denial because we think that to admit there__ something wrong means we__e weak or broken or odd. I don__ know if it__ society, or just who we associate with, but we need to change our way of thinking. We are not weak. We are not broken. We are not odd.

Even when or if I become one of you, I vow to appreciate life; to appreciate my strength because unlike you, it seems, I__e worked to earn mine

Believe in gold and thou shalt never settle for silver.