Best Seller

Number one or number ten
I just want to win
Something.
I guess something real.
2024
I want feel
ALIVE
I want to heal
MY MIND.
I’ll write the novel
Type the memoir
Scribble the essay till my knuckles bleed.
I’d be sincere
Finally free, awake and clear.
Momentary Success will Finally be consistent.
One day,
In 2024
I’ll be the best seller
In the NY times
For trying times
Without wasting time.
So what will I achieve?
Who will I be?
My new goal is to speak
Factually
With intent
I’ll no longer accept
Maybe’s, wait’s, or let’s see.
I’m achieving what God intended for me
Happiness
Wonder
Success
Laughter.
The world will understand what I can do.
Mediocre or strange,
I’ll stand on my truth
Against every hurricane
Every opinion
And every rotten tomato.
2024 I’ll overachieve
Whether 1 million hear my story
Or only 15 read.
My fulfillment won’t come from the awards
Or the recognition.
I’ll be a bestseller
Because for the first time
In the history of my life
My heart spoke
And my mind Listened.

-Hirasoul

A letter to myself in this new year….

These types of letters and resolutions always seem kind of pointless, especially when you should be working on yourself always for the better. You shouldn’t just start being better because it’s a new year.

But here we are….maybe it’s for the motivation. Maybe it’s because for the first time in a long time, you’re not super depressed going into the new year.

You’re already off to a good start…texting most, if not all people back who have texted you. Carving out time with family and friends. Working out, even if it’s only for 30 minutes a day, you’re already seeing results. Cleaning and decluttering. It’s amazing the crap you can accumulate while you’re depressed.

Next up is going back to school for your bachelors, and hell, maybe we’ll even get our masters. Get your license and a car. But first you need a job because being a caregiver to a loved one isn’t enough to qualify to get money. You’ll be tired, sure, but when aren’t we tired ?

Visit all the doctors you can before you turn 26 in September and get kicked off the family’s insurance.

Work on the companies. Bake more. Cook more. Take photos. Film.

And if you’re lucky, and if there’s enough time (which there usually most definitely isn’t) but maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to get your baby back this year. March will be three years since they’ve gained their angel wings, but if we’re lucky, maybe they’ll come flying home into your arms.

2024 seems doable. 2024 seems possible.
2024 seems heavenly. Don’t you think?