This is taken from the diary I wrote whilst in rehab. These words were written a few weeks after I’d detoxed off methadone.
A new year is brought in on the incoming tide. Within each one of the three hundred and fifty days is a beautiful dose of unpredictability. Each day can be smooth, rough or even jagged like glass, but like an ocean wave they contain potential. (btw, I do know that there’s 365 days in a year, when I wrote this my mind was mashed!! 🙂
Grab hold of each day like a toddler grips onto a stationary object, take destiny into your own hands. If we wander the earth with our eyes glued together by a mundane high, then the years will disappear without a satisfactory conclusion.
Either get swept along in a cycle of regret or wake up and revert our souls to the enlightened state of children. Become a conscious being once more and live a good and righteous life.
I’ve finally seen the true value of life, it’s not a rehearsal and each day needs to be lived like it’s the last. I do not want to waste anymore time by keeping myself trapped in an endless cycle of painful living.
As soon as I claim back my sleep, I’m going to become a writing machine. Play around with words and juggle metaphors until I find the perfect beat. I can slowly feel the fog clearing.