By Michael Sixto

It feels right. Deep inside when there is silence, and the quiet spirit of the night salutes you with a smile, there is peace. We don’t have to run anymore or choose the right words, or pretend to be the achievers… the immortals. We go around with our always aging bodies hoping for a tomorrow that reflects our true nature. We wonder and wonder the whys, but the answers come uncertain. It’s so random this fear that we can’t stop over thinking; the result is a bigger dose of chaos when we only hoped for peace and silence and a moment of tranquility. A good friend of mine just wanted to plant a tree so he stole a piece of land in the middle of nowhere, where he wouldn’t be bothered. The seeds I gave him then I left holding my daughters’ hand. My friend grew older watching the tree grow bigger and I never got to see him again. It feels right, you know, this moment of connecting. It feels tremendously satisfying been ourselves when there is nothing to prove, when the hug comes natural and I just want to enjoy this long minute without thinking on the consequences.