Praděd Mountain: Blood, Sweat and Tears.
I felt so strong, fit, beautiful and free. Seconds later, it all went blank. I disappointed myself. I fell, I bled, later I drank. Allowing the confidence I had at sunrise to quickly slip away. It slipped away as fast as I hit the ground. Bloody bruises in the body and in the mind.
I sought comfort in the empty space where strong soothing arms hugging me tight, would have been. Finding nothing but silence. Which is more painful? The bloody bruises? Or the bloody failure?
Then I heard the words. "The trouble is, you think you have time." These whispers made both pains, not only bearable. But also significant. Because I could feel. I was alive.
I survived.
To whom and to what am I going to give my time to? I am not going back to sleep.
“The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you Don't go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back to sleep! People are going back and forth across the door sill where the two worlds touch, The door is round and open Don't go back to sleep!”
― Rumi
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