supre awesome existential trip up a mountain!

Chapters

Chapter One: The Beginning
Chapter 2: The Middle; Part 1
Chapter 3: The Middle; Part 2
Chapter 4: The Middle; Part 3
Chapter 5: End

Chapter One: The Beginning

We are tiny, insignificant microbes in an endless abyss of space. From whence did we come? What are we? Who are we? What is our role in all of creation?

Our actions cause barely a quantum ripple in the vast ocean of space and time. It is the folly of ponydom that we choose to spend a lifetime in pursuit of wealth and power. We hope to leave a legacy long after our deaths, sacrificing all that we cherish in the process.

I am a wanderer. I am content to drift peacefully without worry or sorrow across the infinite plains of the countryside. Neither the suffering nor the violence of the world shall plague the serenity of my soul. I am one with myself. I am one with the universe.

The only problem? The world is changing...

And I am not.

Tending the Garden

Requiem

Breathless and enthralled, I stand at the peak of Equestria’s highest mountain; Mt. Appleachian. The lightning of a still-great storm shivered through my spine, capturing every fiber of my being as I stood what felt like a world away. The air pulsated with energy, filling my eyes with an almost touchable sense of wonder. The wings I'd been ever blessed to receive vibrated much like the thunder still echoing around me; its low growls boomed irritably at the thought that something, or should I say somepony had overtaken its position atop the throat of the world. However, neither the snowcapped peaks nor the howling winds could draw out even the most nominal amount of annoyance within me, and no matter what the physical cost, I intended to fulfill my mind's desires.

I am alone. I am at peace.

Inhaling sharply, I adjusted the straps of my backpack, retrieved a small set of items, then proceeded to sit back. A small, ornamental sketchbook dropped to the ground as I retrieved a set of quills and an ink pot. With these tools of creation, I would capture the graceful cacophony of Mother Nature, bringing each flash of light, each bit of her visually stimulating phenomena, into the immortal sphere of art.

With each stroke of the quill, my mind dabbled ever further into the details of the world surrounding me. For one, there were the clouds. From the graceful cirrus to the fierce cumulonimbus, the silent sentinels of the sky are truly a force to be marveled.

As I became in tune with the soft and graceful mists, my breathing slowed and I sat back to collect my thoughts. I’m not quite sure why, but some article seemed particularly…interesting, about the clouds tonight; they seemed to somehow remind me of something.

They reminded me of myself.

No matter how strong or mighty, the puffs that dot our cerulean canopy are powerless against the predetermined track they're forced to run on day after day. Similar to ourselves, the wisps above our heads are often related to a coin; for one, they could cry tears of life-breathing water, giving both the ponies and the foliage below the will to keep living. But on the other hoof, they could cast down vicious bolts of lightning, create swirling vortexes of destruction, or bring freezing gusts the likes of which ponykind has yet to experience.

The thing about clouds, though, is that no matter how benevolent they are with their rains, nor how malevolent they with their hailstorms, they never get to go any further than their predecessors. Ironically, I share this same mindset with every pony that's ever lived. All our lives, we're told to strive towards "Out-of-the-box" thinking, when really the seal that adorns our flanks tells both ourselves and those around us what we are to a point.

Even more ironically, I personally was blessed with a talent for drawing; when I received my cutie mark for painting, I was surprised yet optimistic. I came to the conclusion that I was granted some sort of special leverage over everypony else. I and I alone had a unique talent that, when put into practice, could shape worlds. Deciding it couldn’t get any weirder, I followed my artistic career through grade-school, high school, and well into my later years. Now, today, I shun the very divine system that deemed me so worthy as receiving a quill-and-parchment as a label for whom I am. I neglect the thought process that some, "All-powerful entity" dictates our role in the cosmos. I argue constantly with myself about how complex our lives are, and how at the same time, they're more shallow than the puddle on your sidewalk.

Sighing lightly to myself, I continue to dot my parchment with a never-ending slew of ink. It’s almost sad to think that even now, here at what’s supposed to be the spot my greatest creation came to life, I’m arguing morale rights with myself. I feel like I’m betraying myself, yet I continue.

Arrgh, why do I torment myself so? Why bother even thinking about life's grand scheme when there's so much out there to distract one's self? I find that it's simple, really. We, as ponies, just don't want to think about the maybes. I mean, why should we? Nopony's telling us we have to, so why even bother thinking outside of our box? Why bother putting a label on everything when all one really needs to do is sit back and enjoy the world for what it is?

Well, whenever I think about this, I think of an analogy; Why bother looking out your own windows at home, when no matter what you do throughout the day, you end up right where you began it? In your bed. You’re the exact same person as you were in the morning, so why bother experiencing anything else? When one’s in their bed, whether they're on their lonesome, with a partner, or maybe even pet if that's their sort of thing, they always rest their eyes in the same place where they’d opened them.

The only difference? Whether or not they have the good fortune to wake up again.

Chapter 2: The Middle; Part 1

Outside of coffee, your job, or even your family and friends, one of the more subliminal reasons we get up each morning, one dry-eyed day to the next, is the fact that we can. We possess the ability to wake ourselves up, no matter how bleak the world we're waking up to may be. We ponies were born with the ability to speak, therefore we talk. We were also born with the ability to see and hear; therefore we take in as many sights and sounds as we possibly can. Nopony tells us we have to experience these things, we do so because it feels right We live each day out because we can. We want to show life that we as a species not only live each moment, but that we dominate them. We go outside and take life by the horns, proving once and for all that we are unique.

With each passing moment, the strokes of my brush layered the parchment again and again. Some lighting here, a little shading there, and all atop a light sprinkling of personal zest. The enveloping swoon of the storm clouds, the bellowing winds accompanied by the high altitude, the galvanizing force of authority clasped within each radiant bolt of lightning...All of these marvels bound together by a no more than a brush and some paper.

Everything is tied together. It matters little whether they like, or even know it.

Resting the sheets of parchment on my lap, I prepare myself for the second wave of artistry. I promised myself that this last work would be perfect no matter what, and I intended to keep this promise. I vowed…

However, a frail mutter rang out in the darkest depths of my mind, eating away at my thoughts. The subconscious vocalization of my own voice swatted at my inner serenity, and worst of all, I couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Stop making promises," My inner whisper commanded. "We both know what happens when you can't follow through...

The reserved articulations were swirling about my head, plaguing me like a storm to a countryside. No matter how hard I might concentrate, the vicious tirade of self-doubt was overwhelming. I felt like a fool to be broken by myself so easily, and I threw my brush into a snow cap out of anger. Why must ponykind be so open-minded? Why are we cursed with having second opinions? Couldn’t we just pick a path and enjoy it?

The despairing truth of the matter is that no matter how hard we try to tell ourselves that life’s one big straight line, there's always that little voice prepared to tell us otherwise.

It choked me before, so who was to say it wouldn't choke me now?

Nevertheless, I worked on.

Ink, brush, parchment, repeat. The sacred cycle of creativity. Never ending, never resting.

"Stop now, Scoot. There's no point anymore. You've paid your dues..." Whispered the voice, the inner vocalization reverberating through my mind like an echo in a cave. "You don’t need to act like you rule the world any longer."

The lightning whipped around me as my quill graced the parchment. Winds whistled the song of their people, the thunder rolled like iron scraping pavement, and the clouds cried out in fear as the very heavens shrieked wildly in their face. Raindrops began to fall, so I retrieved a small umbrella I was fortunate enough to have packed. Propping it up in a nearby snow cap, the small parasol protects my artwork similarly to a mother and her son. Meanwhile, I alone am left to whether the inclement conditions presented by Mother Nature, forced to bare the beauteous wrath that comes with every storm.

Thankfully, my final masterpiece has almost come to fruition. With each passing second, I get closer and closer to discovering the life beneath the ink: Its timeless beauty, everlasting in the minds of those who gaze upon it. Deep in my bones, I know that this decision is right. I'm the master of my universe, and if I think this is the right choice, who's to say otherwise? I woke up today, and I'm going to live today.....Even if it kills me.

"You're making a fool out of yourself, Scootaloo. Just like you always do." The voice once again stated, abruptly interjecting itself into my mind. "You're damn stupid if you think doing this is going to give you closure, and even stupider if you think it'll make me respect you anymore.” The voice spoke tensely, choking out the words like a lifelong lover to his bride-to-be. "But hey, don't let me get in your way. After all, you never cared about my opinions anyway. Look at you now! Standing on the edge of destiny, painting nothing more than the gallows that has haunted you since the day you were born! You'd have to be mad to expect today to have a happy ending! Do you understand?! This only ends one way!"

I pressed my pen too hard against the parchment, snapping the frail tip of my quill loose. A solitary roll later and it was flying off into the vicious winds that carry both the angels and demons around our world. "You don't understand! I've tried everything in an attempt to put the pieces together! I'd follow you into the pools of oblivion if it meant finding even the most miniscule amount of self-satisfaction!" I shout to the sky, furrowing my brow.

"Too little, too late, friend. I know better than anypony how insecure you are. Always have been. Look at us now; The zenith of the world, and you're ready to leap into the fires of Tartarus and fall to pieces rather than face the world. You try to sound like a paragon of ponykind, yet we both know you're not. You can't squeeze blood from a stone, kid..." The voice said somberly. "...And you're drier than a pretzel."

My voice, no matter how loud or conscious, was wrong; I wasn’t going to be talked down to today.

I packed my saddlebags and sheathed my one remaining brush. The painting of my life was left unfinished, cursed to be trapped in the purgatory where all unrealized ideas float. One hoof-fall after the other, I approached the edge of not only the mountain...but my very existence. The air tasted of electricity and finalization.

"And just what do you think you're doing now? Don't tell me you're going to jump. I've seen more courage in a raincloud than you! You know this, right? You know you're nothing. Nothing but a waste. A poor, poor little waste. You have so much potential, yet you fail to realize it. You could not only paint mountains, but move them! You could shape the world into your own image if you wanted! But do you?! No! You sit here, contemplating the nothings in life! You try to solve life’s great riddles for what!? Self-satisfaction? Peace of mind? A solitary thought that you could touch the waters of serenity one more time? I only ask why you bother setting yourself so far back on the nothings when you could be channeling it into something that can turn the world into a better place?!"

I shake my head, counting the steps towards the cliff's end. Finally reaching her peak, I look down in wonder at the clouds below. The blood-red cumulus typhoon no longer swirled like a vicious maelstrom, but instead presented itself like a bed ready to whisk you into a dream. It's almost relaxing.

"I can see you've lost the ability to be reasoned with. Ironic, since a poet much like yourself can't seem to get the fact that the only thing that keeps your ideas afloat is reason. It’s almost a pity that you refuse to see that. The menagerie of life only blooms once, kiddo, and you're ready to shut out the sun as if it were going out of style."

I sighed slightly, pausing yet again at the words of my inner voice. She had the reasoning of a scholar, yet the crassness of a sailor. I hated it. "You know what? Maybe I don't like where my life's ended up. Maybe I don't particularly enjoy the flowers you describe so vividly. So what? Nopony ever said we had to love everything on the Earth." I spoke, arguing against the only force who I know could match myself. Hooves in the snow now, I closed my eyes hard, only to reopen them and see the shadow of another pony merely yards away. "So this is it then. I've finally snapped, haven't I?" I said aloud. The figure merely hovered just out of sight, neither moving nor speaking.

"Looks like you've lost it, haven't you? I suppose it was predictable, seeing as you're bickering with, out of everypony to ever grace our fair kingdom, yourself. It was only a matter of time..."

I mentally slapped myself. "Maybe if you weren't so intent on holding my progress back, I'd be able to get out of this hell we've dug! You call me lazy and a fool, yet you are content to live with me. I never wanted your company, nor do I want it now! The thing that puzzles me most is the reasoning behind why you stay here, in my head, so, so many years after I'd given up. You've never helped me in the slightest, yet you claim you're my salvation! You're nothing to me! If anything, you're just another bloody chapter in my existence! I’ve come too far to be put down by a hollow nothing!"

My inner voice was silent.

"What? Can't handle the truth? I never suspected you would." I said coldly, now sitting down. My eyes felt watery, my throat was stiff, and my legs were all but stable. Was this what I had become? A hollow shell of my former self? I'm at my own throat and even still I refuse...I refuse...I...don't know. I’m confused, anxious, nervous, regretful and happy all at the same time. The feeling was new. It was a strange feeling of contentment and sorrow, blending together like coals and fire. I felt alone, yet not alone. I felt...weird.

Leaning back, I fully extended my body and fell into the snow; Head, chest, legs and all. Fully engulfed by the chilling grasp of the mountain, I closed my eyes and exhaled. This was it, I could feel it. The time had finally come. No more did I have to put up a false front. I thought...and thought...and thought. I continued to think about nothing, yet that same nothing was the one thing nagging at me. The inner demons I'd dealt with so feverishly over my long time on this earth had left me like a spirit leaves the body. It felt superfluous, yet I couldn't help but be slighted at the thought of being alone. It was too quick. I shot my eyes open in a heartbeat, hurling myself to my hooves out of confusion...only to be stunned at the sight of a mare.

Chapter 3: The Middle; Part 2

The mare, tall and lanky, batted her eyes but said nothing. From my point of view, she looked like she too had fallen to pieces, as her short violet locks sat disheveled on her autumn-colored shoulders.

We shared a minute or two of tense staring, moving nothing more than our minds. It's almost unnaturally serene...Our interaction seems like that of two lost friends. Her eyes, calming cyan, inquire me into finally speaking. "Hello."

"Hello."

I stare quietly again. We both do.

Another minute passes, and I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the mare's presence. Reaching into my backpack, I once again retrieve my unfinished painting and hold it up. The skies have changed from the time I'd drawn them; No longer did they surround the earth with malign ferocity. Instead, they'd become tranquil and soft, gliding through the heavens like hot air balloons. The winds no longer roared. The mighty thunder no longer boomed. The lightning, as magnificent and steadfast as ever, no longer cracked the sky. Now, instead, small flakes of snow began to fall from the ruptured wisps, each one intending on adorning both my and the stranger's beings.

Everything had changed, yet at the same time, everything felt the same.

Laughing slightly to myself, I pondered on how my artwork could no longer contain the malevolent storm that, only hours ago, had rocked the world. Although it seemed as pointless, the strange feeling was still vibrating in my mind. In a weird combination of wonder and curiosity, I turned from the mare and held my painting to the sky...only to realize that my art which I’d painted well over ten minutes ago was identical to the skies in present. The entirety of the portrait was as serene as the world around me. "But how could I..." I questioned aloud, sitting myself in the snow out of bewilderment.

The mare laughed, causing me to turn my head from the cloud canopy to her in an instant. Inhaling very minimally, she closed her eyes and started taking steps towards me. "You doubt yourself too much, honey. Maybe if you took your mind off the negative…" She stated coolly, now standing a little closer.

Nevertheless, no matter who was talking, I didn't want to hear another lecture. "Do you think that if I didn't doubt myself, I'd be up here cursing the very world who'd raised me from the start? You're either the most unobservant person I've ever met or...or..."

"Or what, pray tell?"

I bit my tongue. As unbelievable as it might've seemed, I was at a loss for words. The mare before me was, in all due honesty, the apotheosis of wisdom. I didn't know how nor why I thought it, but something told me this stranger knew exactly what was going on.

My mane drooped to my side, slick with melted snow. How long had I been lying down? It couldn't have been more than five minutes, yet my body would say otherwise. Only now am I realizing how terribly cold I am.

"What's wrong, my child?" The stranger asked, now taking steps in my direction. "You seem awfully confused. Would you mind if I ask why?"

I nodded my head yes.

"So you do mind?" She stated, cocking an eyebrow. With little haste, the mare turned around and began walking back towards the cliff's edge. "Well, in that case, I'll just be on my way and--"

"Please..." Is the only thing I'm able to speak. My mind is racing with questions, yet nothing is able to escape the starting gate. I feel like a child chasing her mother in the market. I feel alone. "Please, wait, I, I, need to say something,"

The mare, thankfully, stops in her tracks. Turning around, she looks me dead in the eyes and stares. "Very well." And with a quick flourish of her wings, proceeded to glide back over to my side.

Her flight was short and graceful, and it was almost hypnotizing to watch her come to rest at my side. When her graceful auburn wings draped over my sitting form, it relaxed me when she pulled me close to her also-cold body. I'm not saying it's uncomfortable, but the sensation was...foreign. "Why are you here?" I ask, looking airily into her soft cerulean gaze.

"Because I needed to be." Was all the stranger said back, breathing gently at my side in the snow. Together we sat coldly at each other’s sides, silently staring out into the vastness of space and time. Two strangers on top of the world, doing nothing more than look out at the vast expanse beneath their hooves. While this wasn't what I'd originally planned on doing here at the pinnacle of existence, I won't argue against it.

It felt like days were passing like minutes where we sat. Time had slowed, yet sped up. The very air we were breathing felt almost inconsistent. It was curious. "Are you here to stop me?" I ask, never breaking my gaze from the heavens.

The stranger didn't reply. Instead, she merely rested her vision on me.

Now, normally I'd be discomforted at a stranger analyzing me like a particularly agitating math problem, but tonight...I was okay with it. No matter how little she talked, I was glad. Glad at the fact someone was next to me, bleeding the same blood as myself. Glad that I wasn't the only one who thought they were suffering in this world.

Glad that I wasn't alone.

One painstaking breath after another, I felt my rattled spirit begin to slowly calm itself. Everything in existence was perfect just the way it sat, and with this stranger by my side I couldn't ask for anything more in life. Even through all the pain and heartache, I managed to end up here. Alone, yet not alone. My inner demons were quelled. I felt free.

I exhaled lightly and watched the small puff of steam emerge from my nostrils. It was...calming. "Do you ever dwell on the little things?" I ask quietly, looking up smoothly to meet the mare’s face.

With little more than a breath, she nodded and smiled. "That I do." And with a shuffle of her wings, adjusted her position at my side. "But, my child, the real question should be 'do you ever choose to think about their answers?'"

Chapter 4: The Middle; Part 3

"I'd like to think so," I respond. "It's only natural to try and tie the loose ends in the world, and pursuing a path of knowledge has always been at the forefront of my mind. Is it such a hassle to try opening all the doors available to you?"

The stranger looked up to the clouds, breathing lightly as the crisp winter air flowed through her lungs. "I suppose it depends on who, or more specifically what you're asking. Personally, I think that when one’s over-thinking an otherwise trivial thought process," She says, capturing my attention more vigorously than before. "And worrying too much about the little things in life, they lose track of what’s really important to them, displacing themselves in ideas. Believe me when I say that letting things like this fester can cause unwanted problems. In the end, you end up trying to find solutions to things that have never even existed, leaving everything and everypony you've ever known behind in a quest for self-satisfaction. It's...It's a nightmare."

I close my eyes and look away, searching deep within myself to find the words to argue against her reasoning. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, the thought of a rebuttal couldn't get anywhere past the idea phase.

I was...speechless.

In a cold actuality, the only thing to come out of my mouth was a sultry sigh of acceptance followed by a quick snort. "I...I suppose you're right." I stated, hanging my head. "What am I thinking? Allowing the thought that an u-ultimatum..." I say, choking lightly on the cold air (or maybe even a small wisp of fear, but the thought never really came to fruition) and coughed briefly. "...Could rip me from this reality. It's almost...It's like it's...I feel like I'm..."

"...Trapped? Forgotten? Afraid? Lost in your thoughts with nobody to turn to, even in your most desperate hour?" The stranger suddenly spoke, biting her bottom lip. From my spot next to her, I could've sworn she was further out on the verge than even myself. She...she looked how I felt. "Do you feel gripped by the agony that could only come from a thousand years of sorrow, ebbing at your soul like a leech? The black-hole sun devouring every last ounce of your sanity, rending mind from body?" She stuttered out, now emotionally in pieces. "Do you feel...Alone?"

With much affirmation, I slowly nodded my head and breathed a single word, "Exactly." And leaned into her, slowly wrapping my left forearm around her shoulders. "That's exactly what I'm feeling." And with those words, her teary eyes met with my own, saying far more than any words ever could.

In that instance, I felt something; it wasn't something I hadn't felt before, but it'd certainly been a long time. I suppose, in the end, the feeling of empathy never quite leaves the soul. I genuinely felt sorry for the mare before me, even without knowing of her personal plights in the slightest.

No matter how much I pray for the rain to wash away my strife, I'm never so far separated as to not concern myself with my fellow pony. Right here, together at the throat of existence, the mare and I sit backs against the wall in abject moment of contemplation. We know nothing about each other, yet at the same time, we know everything.

It might be too early to tell, but if the messages I was receiving were correct, I didn't come up this mountain to quit. In fact, I very well might have aided another lost soul on the pilgrimage of life in finding theirs. Here in the snowy frost fall, my mind and spirit finally felt as if they were at ease...Even if I was in the arms of an unknown.

The burdens I'd faced on my own all these years were now being shared with somepony else. In the end, I guess the only thing I needed to keep on living was a sign that I wasn't forsaken to civilization's darker half. Today, I was balanced out by nothing more than the input of a stranger, and I can’t complain.

The two of us sat for another twenty minutes in an embrace, but to me, it felt like an eternity of sorrow was being alleviated with each passing second. When we finally broke the galvanizing force between us, I could tell we'd both grown stronger as individuals.

The stranger slowly and somberly got to her hooves, exhaling a long sigh into the painfully thick air between us. "I...think it's time we go our separate ways," She suggests, looking mournfully to the now star-filled skies. "It's probably for the best."

The sudden notion of abandoning our newly forged bond was shocking to me. The thought of leaving our small corner of the world to just, go back to reality seemed almost alien after all the time we'd logged. Our unspoken symbiotic connection however, no matter how strong I'd protest it to be, ultimately had to be broken. "I...I have to agree. It's...been a pleasure." Is all I have the energy to say at this point.

Thankfully, even though my cryptic way of compliance, the stranger nodded in understanding. "Then I guess this is it," She said calmly, putting a forehoof on my shoulder and helping me to my own four hooves. "Time to move on in our lives. Green pastures and all that..." The mare utters, almost visibly shaking.

In a burst of emotion not even I could understand, I ran forwards, leaped into the air and wrapping my forelegs around my savior, and...and...began to cry. "Thank you, t-thank you, so verymuch. I have no i-idea how to say this, b-but all I want you to know is that you very well might have saved my life tonight." I choked out, practically collapsing into the mare. In the back of my head, I scolded myself for losing control so abruptly with her, but right now...nothing else mattered; I knew she understood. With her pillow-like mane, I hugged her neck and didn't let go. "You...You prevented me from doing the unthinkable to myself. I d-don't know how you did it or-- or even why...but all I know is that you did. You're my..." I sobbed. Never looking the mare in the eyes, I closed my own as my subconscious overcame rational thought. "You're my guardian angel."

Eyes still closed, I quietly wept into the comforting torso of my liberator until I could no longer bear to be without her. Opening my eyes, we met gazes and shared an otherworldly bond of emotion one last time. "I'm...I'm...And I'm happy to be called that, my little sunshine." She whispered in between tears of her own. Wrapping me close, she leaned into my left ear and breathed one last line of wisdom to me, "No matter how long the night may last, whether it be days, weeks, or even centuries, know that I'll always be there when you breathe. Don't sleep all day, my little sunshine, for as you said before, there are many doors still yet unopened..." She said collectedly, taking a moment to catch her breath. "The bad news? There is no key to happiness. The good news," She spoke again, pausing to swallow a lump in her throat. "Is that it isn't locked."

I nodded quickly, eyes still locked on hers. This was the end of it; I could feel it in my bones. No longer did my subconscious pose a threat to me, because now I know that the clouds aren't the only things compared to a coin; for if we try, we ponies can be just as comforting as the raindrops.

Without any thought, one final realization popped into my head when I looked deep into the mare’s eyes. I don’t know if it was out of tears, fear, or just my muddled thoughts, but she wasn’t any ordinary mare and, unbelievably, I’d neglected to see just who she really was until now. Deep down, I knew her…She was more than a random stranger on a mountain.

Sucking in one last breath of reality, I knew this was it; the real ultimatum. "Goodbye... mom." Was the last thing I needed to say before snapping back to reality.....

Chapter 5: End

I gasped audibly as I sat up in my bed. The covers were all over the floor, my stuffed koala had been thrown across the room, and my pillow was wet with either tears, sweat, or both. The room was a mess…but I was not. It felt like I'd finally been enraptured; like my inner bird had finally left her nest. I felt in control of my life once more.

Turning myself to my hooves, I quietly walked from my bedroom down into the kitchen. There, the alabaster rays of the moon shone through my pantry window whilst capturing the entirety of my being within a motherly glow. Resting a hoof against the cool glass, I knew in my mind that the very same cold was being brought upon by something infinitely warmer; the heat of a million different burning emotions, all focused on me and me alone. Something, or rather somepony, knew I needed help.

They knew I was at a crossroads, feeling the pains that only reality could cause. They knew of not only my sorrows, but also my heartache. She knew I was trapped in my nightmare...

...And she knew I needed help waking up.

"Thank you, mother. I owe you more than anything in the world, but in the end, my word will have to suffice. Be safe, mom, and may your own troubles too be alleviated as mine have been. I may not know where you sleep, and it may take years to fully turn my...no, our lives around, but know that I'll one day be there for you as you were to me. Please…" I say calmly, my gaze meeting the stars of the countryside. "No matter how many pieces fall to the floor, I want us to be side by side to pick them up…"

Tending the Garden

One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.
~ Dale Carnegie