There’s an animal inside of me.

I’m afraid to let it out.

To scream, and let the world know I’m struggling; I just want to be free. Unburdened from the pain, the pangs of loving deeply.

How to be free? By facing it — that which lives within each of us — a storm, a monster, a raging sea. We can never really know ourselves, not completely.

The way I see it, we’re on this earth to channel that energy. Let the animal roam; let the monster breathe; let the storm of our mind spin and let the sea roar.

It’s not so dark as we might think.

What are you afraid of sharing? Are you afraid to die? I am. Because there’s so much life to live. So much love to know. So much that remains left unsaid, and if I go, depths of me will remain unexplored, caverns and rooms and healing.

There’s an animal inside of me.

I want to listen to it purr.

It speaks the truth. Echoes in the night reverberate throughout my mind, made whispers by the morning. It sleeps when I’m distracted; wakes when thoughts are clear — sometimes it speaks as a friend, tells me what I need to hear.

There’s more to you.

That’s the work we’re here to do, distracted by the game of life — but that’s a game worth playing, too.

So I write. Fucking let it out.

That’s the way it speaks.

I burn the page.

And that’s what brings me peace.

To know oneself at the end of this adventure — that’s success. The rest is just a test to shake our spirit from its rest. We take it so damn seriously. The test isn’t the point, is it? The striving and the noise, the being and the fighting; we’re fighting ourselves, which is why we fight each other.

At the end of this adventure, I want to be full of love. The rest of this bullshit does not matter to me. Find peace within. That is the path I’m on.

Because I’m not okay inside.

Who is? I’m trying to impress, improve, win. For what?

To make me feel okay inside.

But I’m not. Don’t tell me that you are. My mind is always trying to fix, solve, and make sense of the world. More.

Sometimes I just want to be held. Told that everything is going to be okay. I want to know that things are fine, and that the truth isn’t so dark as it sometimes seems.

I’m not okay inside, and that’s okay. What a relief to know we’re not so different.

I still feel pain — pain in my body, pain in my heart. But I am not my pain. We are not our thoughts. They’re just a fragment of the self that’s clouded my reality, asking for my all, to cede my will and joy to false perception, a reflection of a boy I used to be.

I’m tired of it. Tired of the negativity that you probably don’t see; the mind is the monster — but it doesn’t have to be.

I can ball, I can lift and I can run. I can cry and I can laugh, and I thank god for that, I got it all. You wouldn’t know it, but I got this anger inside, frustration that is hard to face, and I don’t want to run from it — I need to run towards it.

After I run, I’m lighter. I can think. I guess the pain is me. A beautiful part of me asking to be heard, a sign from my soul telling me it wants to heal. I’m done with the anger.

Done with shame.

Done with the pressure, expectations.

I surrender to the pain.

And it’s calm. The world is light. The sun illuminates our darkness. Its warmth makes me smile; it feels good to know these parts of me — to let the animal shine every once in a while.

For weekly tales from this open heart, subscribe to Vinny’s Field Notes and support my writing. Much love.