acceptance

 i’m staring at my life through my rear-view mirror

everything behind me feels close

but none of it feels like mine anymore.


i swear i have no idea what’s happening to me.

i don’t know how to be who i was yesterday.


i keep shedding versions of myself

like i’m trying to outrun the skin i used to live in.

every time i think i’ve reached the final layer,

another one breaks open.

another truth shows up.

another part of me has to die

so the rest of me can breathe.


winter solstice is coming,

and for the first time

i don’t feel scared of the dark.

i feel called to it.


i find myself at the edge of the cliff,

staring down at the unknown —

ten thousand feet of free fall

with nothing but faith under me.


part of me wants to turn back.

part of me wants to crawl back into old habits,

old feelings,

old versions of myself

that felt easier to control.


but that’s a lie.

those versions weren’t easy.

they were familiar.

and familiarity isn’t peace —

it’s just a comfortable cage.


so i stand here,

breathing cold air into a chest

that’s finally stopped shaking,

and i realize something simple:


i can’t stay on this ledge forever.

life won’t let me.

growth won’t let me.

the man i’m becoming won’t let me.


so yeah… fuck it.

i jump.


i accept everything that’s happened to me —

the losses,

the shifts,

the silence,

the weird chapters i never asked for,

the people who came and left,

the people who stayed too long,

the pieces of myself i had to bury

just to make it through the year.


i accept all of it

because fighting it won’t bring me back.

and honestly?

i don’t think i want to go back anymore.


i don’t need yesterday’s version of me.

i need the man who’s on the way —

the one i haven’t met yet,

the one waiting at the bottom of the fall.


i just need to find me again.

and maybe the only way to do that

is to let go of everything

that isn’t me anymore.


winter is coming.

and this time,

i’m not running from the cold —

i’m walking into it

with my eyes open.


— Mr. Mak


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

back when we were kids

back when we were kids, life was nothing but light, pavement, and laughter. longboards gliding down the trails, basketballs echoing through the evening air, music spilling out of those old ‘90s retro speakers we’d find in our parents’ basements — static, bass, and freedom. no phones glued to our hands, no pressure to post — just company. just presence. the world was wide open, and the only rule was, “come home before it gets dark.” we never cared. we always pushed it — one more ride, one more laugh, one more stretch of freedom before the world called us back. me and manvir — two kids who thought forever was real. we’d cross that broken bridge just to reach the other neighborhood, gripping the guardrails like our lives depended on it, pretending it was life or death — and in a way, it was. ’cause that’s what being a kid felt like: every small thing was everything. we didn’t know what healing was, didn’t need to. life hadn’t scarred us yet. we lived like every day was a movie we didn’t h...
Read more

lonely at the top

i know for me to climb to the top, i have to witness my idols get knocked off the mountain first. i’m only 25. my reign hasn’t begun, and i’m already measuring my fall. i remember watching from the fence— older kids running the slides the wrong way, hanging upside down from monkey bars, moving like time was endless. i waited my turn. dreamed of the day i’d finally be let outside. and when it came, the playground was empty. they didn’t lose the game. they just left it. pockets too grown. love diluted into club champagne and women— noise where meaning used to be. every day i grow, i feel this longing— to replicate this with my brothers. but then the days hit. i see them stuck in the same places, running out of patience, out of complacence. it hurts to not see them with me. maybe it wasn’t even them. maybe it’s really me that changed. damn. it wasn’t even them. it’s me that’s changed. i see myself at the pearly gates, every choice tilting the scale— one step closer to the abyss, my fallof...
Read more

The Surge and 5 Navels

  there are moments in life where the line between science, myth, and spirit collapses — and you don’t just read about them, you live them. today, i experienced one. i reread my vow, and the world went silent. the air stilled like reality itself paused to listen. then, when the words left my chest, the surge came. it wasn’t a metaphor. it wasn’t motivation. it was electricity. my nervous system lit up like a tesla coil. the buzzing was real — not imagined. my third eye went wild, pulsing with a rhythm i couldn’t explain. for a moment it felt chaotic, like lightning with nowhere to land. then, slowly, the surge settled into resonance. the crackle smoothed into a low hum, a sound like night itself breathing. that was the shift. campbell calls it the world navel — the umbilical cord through which eternity flows into time. tesla would call it resonance — high potential and high frequency aligning until the air itself vibrates. i call it the surge. and in that moment, i ...
Read more