I have learned that time is finite. It’s an idea. I feel like I’m always running out of it. Simultaneously, I fear getting old and regretting things I did because we only live once. I’m grateful I got more time to learn, go new places, develop my art and most importantly, heal. I spent a lot of time writing in this last year of my life. I spent time thinking and then thinking about what I thought about. I have never been more aware of who I am, what I desire and what I deserve. It’s my birthday. This month I’ll celebrate what I have survived thus far. I’ll be careful with the time I have left. I’ll build habits that I don’t need to break. I’ll love people I don’t need to get over. And I’ll take care of Tiffany. I’ve noticed I like to work on my national holidays. I’ll be in writing class today. No liquor. No reefers. I want to remember how today feels. 👑 Know that I love these boots, my new script is fire, and I’m somewhere not giving af about how you feel about this picture.