On circling helicopters, broken hearts, and peace-breathing.

img_2667I’m listening right now to police and news choppers hovering overhead. The sound is relentless. Ominous. Heavy with heartbreak. Distinct with the rumble of grief. Apparently there was a suicide this morning at the high school near my home. A student. At 7:48 AM.

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When circles become full, hospitals become home, and you actually land your dream job at 18 years old.

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Graduation day. Sorry for the blur, but check out those curls.

It took me 44 years to finally figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. In high school, everybody else was setting goals and making them happen. Not me. I was just restless. Wrapped up in my music, wrapped up in myself. Continue reading