last, no more.

I have some cool ass neighbors. Deep down, innate cool. The kind that cannot be taught. I genuinely enjoy their company. We look nothing alike. We were raised differently. But the threads that connect us run deep.
One of my neighbors sister's came down to spend the weekend with him. I heard alot about her before I actually met her. She did not disspoint. She has this tattoo, that I heard about before I actually saw it. On the inside of her bicep, there is a detailed bird's wing. The wing is broken. Inscribed inside the wing are the words "last, no more."

When something touches so deeply as to leave an imprint on the essence of everything that I am, I know. I know because my body reacts to it. I speak about it, I tingle. A warm, faint tingle through out my body. My ears get hot. And I speak without recognition of where these words are coming from. This would only happen when I would speak of God. Until I saw this tattoo. The funny thing about these imprints is that I don't feel them as they are being created. It's only when I talk about it that I know.

"Last, no more." Those words never left me from the time I met them. From before the sun went to work, and long after it has gone home, I thought about those 3 words. I wrapped my mind around them to see if they would fit. And fit like Wallabees they did.

Some people have the gift/curse of wanting to help people. Save them from the ugly side of humanity and this world. We didn't choose, it chose us. We're not trying to be a savior, Jesus, or even the fireman that gets the tabbycat from the tree. We're not trying to be anything, we just are. It is as intrinsic as a spots are to a cheetah, cold is to ice, and good is to a warm brownie w/ ice cream.

Vanilla ice cream.

I want the people I love to be...right, I guess. Whatever God intended for them to be. We love, in the truest sense of the word, because we know what it means to love.

My neighbors sister is the same way. And I know of others. And it is a beautiful thing, to be this way.

Until the evitable happens. You run across a person who will never appreciate this gift of love that you have been given. They will never truly understand, and if they do understand, they will never truly appreciate. Give all you may, you will never receive. You make them a priority. They make you an option. The race is run, and you always lose. In fact, you never make the podium. No one sees you finish the race. The tape, crumbled and covered in footprints.

You have made yourself last. You. Not this other person. Yes, they may have pushed, guided, goaded you to this position, but at some point, you allow it to happen.

"In the case of emergency, the floor lights will illuminate, and lead you to the exits of the plane. Oxygen masks will fall from the compartment above you. Place your mask on first before assisting any others around you.You will find further instructions in the pocket in front of you..."

How can you help anyone if you can't even breathe?

There are people who need you. Most importantly, you need yourself. And your no good to anyone running on empty.
Take care of your self. Make a play on breaking the tape and finishing 1st. 3rd place still gets a medal my friend. 9th is better than last.
Surround yourself with people that care. That know truly what you are made out of. That leave something behind. It's the only sustenance that will do.

last, no more.