I kick my own ass and wash my own brain.

I push my own buttons and trick my own pain.

I burn my own flags and roast my own heroes.

I mock my own fears and cheer my own zeroes.

Nothing can stop me from teasing my shadow.

I’m full of empty and backwards bravado.

My wounds are tattoos that reveal my true beauty.

I turn tragic into magic and make bliss my duty.

Let’s be clear – – I did not write that. I’ve been trying to hunt down the author for due credit but I think right now I’ll leave it as some part of this book.

Also, please take note, this is the incomplete version. It just felt right for me to stop at the, I turn tragic into magic and make bliss my duty.

I’ve been spinning the words around in my head all day now.

Tragic into magic. Bliss my duty. Tragic into magic. Bliss my duty.

It’s already become a new mantra of sorts.