It is almost humorous how attached we become to the things we own; how it can feel like a piece of your soul is missing when things are lost. Maybe, deep down, it is the invasion of your privacy that really scratches at you from the inside out. For a few nights now I have been waking up from dreams of being robbed- people threatening me and taking the things that I hold so dear. And one bad situation often makes you think of others- a whirlwind of "what if's" and "what would I do?'s". If you do not know, someone stole my band's van with all of our equipment inside of It (2 years ago). Besides the fact that nearly every dollar I have earned in the past..god knows how long...has been put into purchasing musical equipment, it feels like the tools of my passion are gone.

But on the other hand, the passion is not. The anger, the shock, the sadness...they all are being transferred into other feelings: inspiration, appreciation for what I do have, motivation, and, oddly enough, thankfullness. Since this has happened to us, people's true characters have truly been shown. I feel very gratefull to be a part of a community of people who care enough to try and help each other out when someone is down and out. It is truly incredible the amount of help that has been offered to us even in the simplest form of apologies. And I am reminded why I always believe in people unless given a reason not to because there is good in everyone. What does not kill you, will only make you stronger. Our band is going to be an impenetrable fortress.

And then there are those eyes. And the smiles. The murmurs. The slurs. The warmth of not being alone. It is comfort I forgot could exist feelings I forgot that I could have.

This could be a lot worse; I could be a complete mess right now. But I am not. In fact, I feel good. Everything in it's right place.