My eyes burn from sleepiness and jetlag. My clothes reek of dust and San Francisco wind. My ears ring from  thumping bass and crying guitars. My calves throb from walking 60 blocks round trip every day to Golden Gate Park. My voice cracks from singing along with the live artists and then promptly heading to the karaoke club to belt out bad pop songs until 2 in the morning.

It’s a worthwhile venture, taking advantage of being young.¬†
Tu often points out in half awe, half I’m-so-glad-I’m-not-like-you: “You recover faster than anyone I know. You’re like the energizer bunny, and I’ve never seen you slow down.” I do believe in “do it now, do it now, do it now.” I do believe in “if not now, then when?”
But what is youth without the ability to stand still as well? What is heartbeat if you haven’t had that hesitant pause that creates butterflies?
Here is the rhythmic syncopation that creates hope. Here is my pause, my breath, my meditation. 

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