Who am I to judge anyone? 

I place my hand upon my aching stomach, my aching sides. My brain is throbbing, my eyes look nowhere but straight ahead. The rest of my mind reaches out all around me with invisible tendrils, prying for other ways to help me avoid what I need to face. The nearer I draw to peace, the more I feel my eyes well up. 

“This must be what everyone else feels like.”

Light, so light.
My thoughts are all alright,

I accept them and suddenly I am internally smooth like nobody else has ever been. Or, maybe how everyone else is all the time.

My work is not done.
My future is unsure.

I suppose it is the human dilemma.

I suppose it is my dilemma.