ironic, isn't it? how out of all of these 3 books, it was during the lightest that I have felt the darkest?
tragedy speaks for itself.
I did not decide most of what has happened to me, some things I did to myself.
this book was not meant to be the giant thundercloud that it has turned out to be.
but that's okay.
I think this proves that maybe the darkest of times can be the lightest if we let them be.
this book serves as a declaration that in darkness, we find our light: our true selves, our colors both bold and broken, our motives.
we find who we are.
i apologize for the paradox, but in the end I think art is made up of paradoxes and contradictions, and first and foremost when writing this, I promised myself to be true.
so this is my truth.
this is my life. I won't lie. It is full of huge leaps and massive trips, but it is always ever mine.
so I am thankful for every breathing moment of the horrible and memorable.
thank you all for coming along on this journey with me and I hope I will find the nerve to continue to write in more than these monochrome colors.
hopefully I will leave this black and white state of mind.
I hope to see color again.
either way, this is the end of the lightest (and darkest) chapter of my life. of this book.
I hope it has been both of those things for each of you too.
and that if you ever feel lonely, you can come look back on these parts and know that you aren't.
you never are.
thank you.
-s
