My life dangles on a string and I at anytime am bound to fall apart. Me and my immediate family feel so much but never address anything. We are as quiet as the silence before the thunder storm. It’s clear I don’t want to address anything right now but I hope you can see my vagueness is wrapped in sadness. I just saw my mother cry. She’s most happy most of the time but she says she feels something is wrong. I am so much like her. Living life so intuitively and instinctively and spiritually. When we feel something is wrong it’s hard to break us out of it but in a strange way she’s usually correct. I always forget that life doesn’t revolve around me and that we’re all going through something. I pray that we can make it work. I pray for her not for me. I don’t believe in Jesus like most people. God works in mysterious ways and I literally have his name but I’m a none believer. My mother’s faith makes me believe sometimes but her sadness doesn’t. The devastation in her eyes made me hug her for the first time in a long time. I feel like a bad son most of the time. It’s that immigrant guilt that shames me and motivates me. I walked today for an hour my Smartwatch said I reached my goal for the day. I definitely don’t think I’m through. This Lipton tea fucking sucks. My feet hurt and my hamstrings hurt even more . I can’t stop. One must walk before they run. I’m honestly trying to escape all my problems through forward motion. I can’t stop. My stomach won’t tolerate it. My eyes couldn’t take it. My soul wouldn’t bear it.