Thick. Dense. Heavy. Lethargic. 

You feel it in yoour body, how every cell just seems to get heavier, making the smallest of movement a huge effort. Staying in bed, sleeping, closing your eyes and existence to reality…it seems so much better than breathing, than moving, than owning these feelings. 

I feel the gray clouds over my head again, the violent wind you learn to recognize before a tropical storm (if you grow up in the tropics you know that im talking about). All i can do is remind myself over and over again, “This too shall pass.” Because it will. Because it has. 

So, as I remind myself that storms always come and go, I can only pray and hope that this will be a gente one, a quick rapid one that goes on its way, leaving no destruction in its path but just enough water to nurture the seeds that I’ve been planting, seeds that will bloom into flowers and strong, resilient trees filled with a joy for life.