[align=center][div style="width:580px; text-align:justify; font-size:11pt;"]BREATHE  ### words, [un]finished
trigger warnings:
Breathe. An action so simple we don't think about it, we just do it. Since the day we were born right up until the day our heart stops beating and our blood runs cold we never think about breathing, it's something that happens naturally. Yet, I keep telling myself over and over each and every day to just breathe. A broken record playing in my mind on repeat. Why do we tell ourselves to breathe? Our bodies don't need to be told to perform the mundane action that keeps us alive. It does that itself.
Exhaling slowly, I take a tentative step out onto the stage. Then another, and another until I'm faced in front of the audience. My body shook and anxiety coursed through my veins like a rushing river. What was I doing here? Every moment I spent silent was another moment all one hundred and fourty three pairs of eyes waited for something. Anything. The moment I open my mouth would be the moment they all start to judge more harshly. Every line I got wrong or every movement that didn't fit with the words. The room was filled with tension as the audience grew tired of waiting. There was no more putting this off.
