Cleaning up

I can’t move forward when I don’t know where to go.
That’s a half-lie.
I don’t want to move forward to where I should be going.
Yeah that’s more toward the truth.
I can’t move forward when I don’t care where I’m headed,
Might as well just drift.
Go back? And do what?
No, I can’t go back.
There are to many sorrows there,
Too much pain mixed in with all the laughter and joy,
Happiness saturated with it, jaded.
There are too many hours I don’t want to revisit,
There are too many ghosts there.
I wouldn’t change a single thing,
Why?
Why risk losing myself on the off chance that I might feel less broken?
Strong are not they who recover,
but those who suffer and go on anyway.
I will take the present moment,
Problems, ghosts, all kinds of crap,
I will take it all,
Because that’s what made me and that,
Is the mess I’ve made.
Now hand me the god damned broom.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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