by Edmund J. Janas, II
Daily, I write—no matter what. Daily, I execute—no matter what. Daily, I invest in my vision—no matter what. Even when I have very little, I pay myself first. It’s my way of honoring the work and the path I’ve chosen.
It should be lonely, but I assure you, the solitude is as sweet as honey on the lips. My rescues keep me grounded, their love and simple presence a reminder of what truly matters. Beyond them, my contact with the outside world is limited to the postage person, an occasional worker, other resellers, and AI. It’s a quiet life, but not without its richness.
When I do turn on the TV, it’s like witnessing a tragedy on loop. Some “leader,” some nation, some nut has taken what was given to them as good and dragged it into another depth of depravity. It’s exhausting to even think about. A war is raging—not just one of bombs and borders, but a war for our minds, our hearts, and our souls. And that’s no exaggeration.
Once the mind gives up, once it stops caring about truth, the rest follows. Resistance alone won’t save us. The urge to protect isn’t enough. We must find our voices, embrace our limitless Creative Force, and fortify ourselves with that which endless wealth cannot buy—love.
Not romantic love quick to turn cold, not mere attraction, not vague sentimentality, nor the weakness of being a doormat. I mean the universal force that universal to all humans, that which empowers, the force AI will never possess. True love. The kind that asks questions, dares to seek, and remains curious about its boundless power. We all have equal access to it, it doesn’t discriminate, it doesn’t give in small stingy amounts, and if you think that, you don’t know the meaning yet.
This is the love that no one can resist or wage war against. It outlasts all things. When time reveals all and even time itself disappears, this love remains. So, who can stand against it? Who would dare to command it? Who would not be made a fool in its presence?
As I reflect on these truths, I stop to whack a troll, write some verse, pen a lyric. I sing. I dance. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel hopeless. Getting up in the morning doesn’t feel like I have a ton of bricks strapped to me.
I challenge myself daily: to eliminate what doesn’t serve me—hidden sugars, salt, dairy, meat—anything that stands in the way of health and clarity. I stretch. I work. I create. I confront the ineffable, unutterable expectations I’ve placed on myself and that others have imposed. But I’m learning to guard my sacred spaces and honor myself.
I ask myself now, “Self: What do you want? What would you like for dinner? Whose beautiful smile do you want to see?” Instead of dreading, “Oh, no…here comes trouble,” or putting everyone else ahead of me, I choose a new path.
This is my domain, my renewal. So pardon me if everything feels brand new, if I marvel at life as though no one has experienced it before. As people fall away from my life, I think, “Wow, was I in a bad place to ever think that behavior was acceptable.” But I also make space for grace—acknowledging my own countless mistakes and how I’ve hurt others.
Grace, though, isn’t weakness. Sometimes, it’s the strength to let people go—especially those who are no good for you and mean you no good.
So here I am, twice as sharp as I was at 21, with hard-earned skills, deep insight, and resources I couldn’t have dreamed of back then. The long game is paying off. It’s time to set it off.
This isn’t just reintegration. This is rediscovery, renewal, and a fierce commitment to the truth, to love, and to creating a life worth living.
