2 Corinthians 12:9-10

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

~2 Corinthians 12:9-10

This is by far one of my favorite Bible verses, one I turn to in times of struggle and in times of hope. Recently, I’ve been struggling with being alone. Or maybe being lonely. There is a big difference between the two.

Let me explain.

Being alone is having privacy, enjoying time by yourself. Not necessarily seclusion, just being with your own thoughts. On the other hand…

Being lonely is the idea that you can be around others, yet still feel alone. You still feel like you don’t matter, you don’t belong, you’re “not good enough” or worthy of love and affection. Your desperation to find a significant other takes a hold of your heart and every night when you crawl into bed, all curled up against the wall under blankets that muffle the tears that refuse to be controlled, or the hiccuped sobs that interrupt the calming background noise of the cooling fan. Reverting to old memories of flames that are now extinguished, but often spark just to tease the mind and bruise the heart.

And so I ramble.

The point is:

If you have to ask yourself, “should I go on a dating fast?” The answer is a confident yes.

What is a dating fast? A dating fast is the idea of self-restraint: declining dates, abstaining from flirting, hand holding, and “impure” thoughts. The purpose of the fast is to help the individual focus on herself in addition to her relationship with Christ. After all, He is the one and only person you need to depend on.

I decided that for my Lenten promise, I would go on a dating fast. Let me say one thing: It. Is. HARD. Wow, I never expected it to be this challenging; however, I know that it is for the best.

After being in some crummy “potential” relationships, reminiscing way to much on the past, and recently just struggling with feeling lonely yet wanting to be alone (weird thought, I know…), I decided this is what I needed to do. I need to reconnect with God. His flame is the one I need to reignite, the bond between parent and child is stronger than any other. He is the one I need at this time. Instead of searching for answers, I am searching for guidance. Instead of desperation, I will find silence. But it is here in this silence, this challenging fast that I will find God and He me, and I will once again find the path that I am destined to follow. I was distracted and strayed far into the darkness, but now I have opened my eyes and have come to see the light.

Depending on how this challenge goes (40 days is a long, long, time) I may extend it. It is not an absolute thing, but it is something in which I need to partake. I am empty on the inside. Only God can fill this emptiness, the loneliness from which my heart aches, and dry the tears which will no longer fall for someone who was simply not meant to be. I trust in God’s plan. After all, His timing is perfect.

This may be a long road, but in the end, I am hoping to discover peace and happiness.

Jeremiah 31:3, NIV~cheers~

10 Things

I was going to write a more somber blog as that is how I am feeling right now; however, I decided that instead of focusing on the sadness and lost emotions, I was going to focus on being happy. After all, that was one of my New Year’s Resolutions…look how well I’m doing, huh.

I watched a brief, yet excellent TED Talk film (I love TED Talks, they’re so inspiring! Not to mention intellectually stimulating) about being happy. The speaker said: The one way to be happy is to be grateful. To focus on the opportunity given to you, and enjoy it.

“Every moment is a new gift…The key to happiness is to be grateful.”

He explains while we cannot be grateful for everything, we can be grateful for every given moment and opportunity. In order to find these opportunities, we must stop, look, and listen. Waiting. Patience. Learning.

So. 10 Things for which I am grateful/things that make me happy:

1) I am grateful for my faith. Even when I fail and stray from the righteous path, I have the opportunity to redeem myself and work to become a better person.

2) I am grateful for my family and friends. Lord knows without them I wouldn’t be where I am today. They are the ones that love and support me through thick and thin, through the victorious moments and the humbling defeats. Even through awkward experiences, troublesome times, and also times of great joy and laughter, they are the ones who are there to experience it with me.

3) I am grateful for my gift of introverted-ness. As strange as that sounds, it has taught me how to be a better listener. Through others experiences, I have taken heed as well as warning to various situations and life lessons. Applicable or not, their stories give me insight into a world deeper than my own and the one I see daily.

4) I am grateful for my ability to tap into an abstract like emotion when I write. Writing, like music, is another way for me to find some sanity or relieve stress/convey my mental state without directly saying it.

5) I am grateful for music. When I am at a loss of words to describe my happiness, or the tears roll so hard they choke me, or anger boils over till all I see is a fist disappearing into a pillow, there’s music. A comfort, a relief, a place of peace.

6) I am grateful for the gym. AMEN TO HEALTHY LIVING! I love my workouts – there’s never such a thing as an easy day with me. If anything, it’s either challenging, hard (@irbuzz can attest to that. She thinks my workouts are fun too), or you’re still trying to catch your breath while toweling off the sweat on your forehead.

7) I am grateful for my education. To be at one of the greatest universities in the entire country is humbling, motivating, and inspiring. Enjoy these moments, the good and the bad: although you are only a student in the system for so long, you will forever be a student of life.

8) I am grateful for my health. We take our health for granted far too often – you never know when life could throw it’s next curveball or what fate has in store.

9) I am grateful for my job and my coworkers. I work with some pretty spectacular people.

10) I am grateful for the life I’ve been given. I take this life of mine for granted far too often than I should. I am learning to accept the fact that in this life, I will make mistakes. I will fail many times over before I succeed. But with each failure, I will take away new lessons; I will get back up and try again. It’s the idea of learning to love and forgive others, myself included.

When you learn gratitude, that is when you know the true definition of happiness.

~cheers~

February 18th, 2015

Today (ok, yesterday) I turned 20. 20! I know, I still have to get used to the idea… I must say I think I’ve got a pretty great birth date. February 18th, I feel like it just has such a great ring to it, you know? Biased opinion, sure, but look at who I share a birthday with:

1954- John Travolta

1958- Susan Jane Reidy*

1965- Dr. Dre (MY MAN)

1974- Jillian Michaels

1995- Shane Rudloff (birthday twin 🙂 )

I would like to spend a few moments talking about my dear mentor and guardian angel, Mrs. Reidy…

One of the coolest things I’ve learned about my birthday is that I tend to share it with some of the most incredible people, from rappers, to super awesome people (SHANE), to inspirational science teachers.

For a while I considered it a sign that maybe that is my life’s calling – to be a science teacher, but I’ll get into that later.

Susan Jane Reidy

Amazing. Genuine. Passionate. Inspirational. Empathetic. Kind. Funny. Creative. Adventurous. Sympathetic. Attentive. Happy. Confident. Faith-filled. Enthusiastic. Generous. Loving.

These are only a few of the many characteristics…The list could go on.

Mrs. Reidy had an aura about her that could bring light and happiness to anyones day, friends and strangers alike. She had a confidence about her that radiated stronger than UV rays and a priceless smile that brought instantaneous jubilation to everyone’s hearts. To put it simply, she was and still is, amazing.

I’m not exactly sure as to when I had my very first encounter with Mrs. Reidy; however, I was fortunate enough to have been able to travel on a Marine Biology trip the summer following my freshman year with her as our chaperone, as well as taking her Anatomy and Physiology class my senior year of high school.

Words cannot explain how much this woman meant to me, and I know this post will never truly explain, or even come close to representing how much she influenced me and my life, but I will do my best in painting the picture for you.

A little less than half-way through my senior year, she grew quite ill – stomach pains, headaches, physical exhaustion – of course, being the strong woman she is, she continued her lectures with the biggest smile and optimistic outlook not allowing anyone to think much of it. A few months later, she revealed to us that she was not just sick…she was dying.

This beautiful soul, stronger than graphene…

…how was this possible?

She had been diagnosed with Stage IV Ovarian Cancer.

She started chemotherapy soon after and participated in an experimental drug study to determine whether or not it would help eradicate the cancer and ultimately save the remainder of her normal functioning cells.

We prayed. We cried. And we prayed some more.

I cannot begin to tell you how agonizing it was to watch her slowly physically deteriorate. But yet she somehow managed to maintain her energy and toughness throughout the entire process…whether she did it for her students sake so we would stop crying and fearing the thought of losing her, or if it was because she too feared for the thought of losing her students and family…By God, this woman was determined to beat the odds.

A month or two before graduation, we received word that the chemo was working and that she was essentially cancer free. Best graduation gift ever. Standing on that stage with her, knowing she was there…In all her humble glory…

And with that happy note, we graduated, Class of 2013.

Fate, however, decided to take a turn for the worst…and this time around, we needed more than an answered prayer: we needed a miracle.

IT came back. The cancer reappeared…and was spreading like wildfire.

I couldn’t believe it. HOW could God let this happen? WHY Mrs. Reidy? She has so much to live for?

My sister was in her class and kept me updated daily on Mrs. Reidy’s health. She said she was losing a significant amount of weight, and although she was still Mrs. Reidy, she was unrecognizable…Fragile, exhausted, and in so much pain from chemo and the fight she had to put up against the Devil himself.

On April 28th, 2014 she passed away in her sleep.

Her family and close friends by her bedside, as well as the multitude of thoughts and prayers from her students and the entire school community.

I have never cried so hard in my life. Then again, I have never lost someone who I considered to be a role model, a close friend, and a mentor. It was a new experience for me, one I can say I wish to never experience again…or at least for a long time coming.

I guess God needed another Earthly angel in Heaven…I apologize for words are evading my mind right now. *tears*

To my guardian angel: Mrs. Reidy,

   I miss you. With each and every passing day, the thought of you being gone does not get any easier. While I know you are in a better place right now, possibly chilling on a beach enjoying the hot sand, relaxing waves, and warm sunshine (while of course lathered in sunscreen!), I wish you could still be here with us. I wish I could reverse the clock so I could tell you everyday how great of an impact you have made and continue to make on my life. I wish I could tell you how you have influenced my life and helped me become the woman I am today. I wish I could tell you how much you have inspired me to live a more fuller life, working hard to exceed expectations but also enjoying moments of laughter and friendship. I wish I could ask you for advice on certain things – personal, relationship, life things. I wish I could go back just to be around you and your infectious laughter and optimistic personality; even on the worst of days, you always found a way to make them better. I wish I could go back to tell you how much I love you.

Happy birthday, Mrs. Reidy.

Thank you for being a blessing in my life.

While you wake up today, someone is breathing their last breath. Thank God for another day. Don’t waste it.

♫ We could go up, up, up
And take that little ride
And sit there holding hands
And everything would be just right
And maybe someday I’ll see you again
We’ll float up in the clouds and we’ll never see the end ♫

Angel in the clouds

~cheers~

Come Play With the Fire

Smoking Candle by GeorgeAmies

*sssss* “And that my dear is how you put out a flame” he said as a cunning smile etched on the corner of his mouth. He angled his face so half of it was shadowed, but the other half drew light from the cracked stain-glass window. Oh how the sunlight gingerly highlighted his masculine scruffy face, his prominent cheek bones, and his one dimple on his left cheek. It only appeared when he smiled that smile – the devious charming “I’m-up-to-no-good” one. He showed me his fingers, the tips of them calloused and warm from the flame. He kissed them and put them to my lips, an odd yet somehow alluring sensation. “Try it” he whispered coaxingly into my ear, letting his hands trail across my shoulder then down my spine. I shivered. I bit my bottom lip uncertainly and gave him a side-ways glance. He sat there smiling, chin low, head cocked slightly to the right examining what I’d do next. I stared at him anxiously, my heart beating like a racehorse’s canter. What is it about you that I can’t help but feel…bewitched? Cast under this spell of hopeless and unending dreaming of which my mind is not under my own control? His eyes, deep brown like a springtime mud, just gazing at me. He tilted his head to the left, blinking twice, and raised his eyebrows, …well? then nodded toward the candle.

When you are so deeply infatuated with someone,

when, or more importantly

how 

do you draw the line between

right and wrong?

We sat there for a while in the empty pew as if waiting for a sign, maybe even a miracle of some sort. The roof creaked above our heads, and the colony of bats retreated to their dark corners when the sun came out of hiding from behind the clouds, shining so brightly that even a blind individual could have seen the light. I closed my eyes to absorb the sunlight, and for a moment I could have sworn I heard the distant sound of the organ playing in the angel’s choir. Slowly opening my eyes, I noticed he was staring at the cross. No, he was surveying the man on the cross. “I know him” I said, a little louder than I expected as it echoed throughout the large space. He nodded his head one too many times then turned back toward me holding a candle. “Here, I’ll light it for you.” I looked up at him disdainfully and he chuckled under his breath. He held out the candle, the flame flickering in front of my eyes, like a beautiful lady dancing back and forth growing tall, then languishing into a bulb of light that still glowed in the eyes of those who looked at it.

I looked at him, then back at the flame. His eyes illuminated by the brightness, mesmerizing those dark eyes of his. I licked my fingers then graced them over the flame, pinching them over the wick like he had said to doIn that moment it was an infinite feeling between rebellion, unpredictability, recklessness, not to mention heatIts intensity blazed my eyes, my skin, my soul. Its incandescence devouring my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions. Everything and anything I felt in that instant, from ambivalence to curiosity, translated into a sharp shooting pain that blistered my fingers and left me unsuccessful in extinguishing the accord. “Ouchie!” I cried, quickly pulling my fingers away as I glared at the perpetual flame. Instinctively, I put my fingers in my mouth to ease the pain, a salty tear rising to my eye.

He put out the flame with such ease.

The man on the cross sighed.

I turned around squeezing my fingers to distract me from the throbbing pulsation and uncomfortable blistering in my fingertips.

“Where…Where’d you go?”

*A far off snickering in the background*

“Wait…Where am I?” But it became instant déjà vu. I’ve been here before…I’ve been burned before, no? I examine my fingertips again to see the newly formed blisters, but instead of finding what I had expected, I felt a twinge in my heart and tears spontaneously began rolling down my already flushed cheeks.

Shards of glass shattered everywhere. I looked down at my feet and saw my candle laying there, broken into microscopic pieces, the wick burnt out, and the last of the flare smoking out till nothing was left.

My little red candle…

I bent down to carefully pick up the pieces, placing them as gently in my palm as I could. It appeared as though even some of these broken pieces had been reassembled at an earlier time, seemingly facing the same routinely fate of being glued back together with time standing in as Death, determining once again when they would splinter.

…Why?…

“And in the end, we were all just humans…drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”

Glass break heart

I am suffering. I am mind. I am homeward.

[Hermes:]
You’re on the lam, you’re on the run
Don’t give your name, you don’t have one
And don’t look no one in the eye
That town will try to suck you dry
They’ll suck your brain, they’ll suck your breath
They’ll pluck the heart right out your chest
They’ll truss you up in your Sunday best
And stuff your mouth with cotton

[Orpheus:]
Wait for me, I’m coming
Wait, I’m coming with you
Wait for me, I’m coming too
I’m coming
Wait, wait, wait, wait

I’m not sure why, but this song has become my latest obsession. It’s eerie and somber, but I also find it rather comforting. Listen to it: do you hear what I hear? Sadness. Nostalgia. Distant longing… 

After a pretty miserable few weeks, lousy Valentine’s day in which was spent in tears, and only a few hours with my family instead of an entire day, I have found an odd easiness in this song. It reminds me of all of my sadness but also reminds me of my strength – my ability to pick up and leave the pieces behind…a characteristic that used to bother me so, but I’ve become so accustomed to it that it no longer affects me. In former years, I would try to reassemble the brokenness of shattered hearts, broken minds, all underneath this over looming darkness that enclosed me like a soft blanket, but tortured my memories.

“Wait for me, I’m coming too.”

I have a new favorite book to add to my already all-inclusive list of favorites: The Odyssey.

Maybe it’s just the way my professor has been teaching the book, with such passion and emotion, more importantly emphasis… We were going over Book 11 today and he said he can never read that section without a tear or two falling from his eyes. My professor said that! I was…speechless, astounded!

For those of you who are not familiar with the story of The Odyssey, it is about a man named Odysseus who is on a journey to get home to his wife. But yet it’s not that simple, HE is a storyteller, all his stories have a point. They captivate the audience and the reader and they teach us something, whether it be manners on how to treat a guest, or how to truly love someone, Odysseus’ poetic brilliance enchants those who choose to listen…

The most beautiful part about Odysseus’ relationship with his wife is their “homophrosyne” which translates to mental oneness. The difference between his relationship with his wife and the other characters in this poem is that their connection goes deeper than just physical attraction. They are wise and clever beyond words, and their ability to level or simply communicate with one another on such a profound intellectual scale is truly awe-inspiring and beautiful.

Ok BethyD, what’s the point?

Well…

For some people, this life may be about finding the riches of gold and silver, the materialistic things life has to offer. Others it may be more spiritual, a journey to finding themselves. Even so, maybe it is finding the courage to break free: Breaking Freedom’s Chains. Yeah, I like that. Freedom from finances, abusive partners, broken relationships, self-harm, negative thinking…from parents that live their lives and dreams through their children rather than letting their children live their own lives and discover the opportunities that may grant them a new life into a new world. One parents may dream about, but ultimately fear for their children’s safety because they have never experienced it for themselves. Maybe it is a life of freedom from fear. Or a life spent finding happiness and then sharing  it with the world.

Homophrosyne. Mental oneness… 

Maybe it’s even finding mental oneness with yourself

Flying feathers by Lionique

“I am suffering. I am mind. I am homeward.” 

I am suffering because that is life.

I am mind because life teaches me to use my wit.

And I am homeward, because my life lessons will show me how to get there.

Take care of yourself, friends. Find homophrosyne with yourself before you attempt to share it with someone else. *fair warning from a broken heart*

“But now you wish to know my cause for sorrow –

and thereby give me cause for more.”

That’s why we build a wall, we build a wall to keep us free…

Oh My Dear

When something good comes your way, you cling to it, holding on till the knuckles of your hands turn white, fingers using every ounce of strength to grasp the entirety of the situation, the moment, the individual…clasping so tightly so as to hold onto every ounce of spontaneity.

Especially when you want something so badly, it’s like everything seems to ache, you just want – you want to know! You want confirmation, you want to feel, you want to be vulnerable, you want to explore the deepest darkest secrets and expose them to the light and finally feel better about it.

But instead of feeling better, instead of feeling excited or new or… special? You feel lost, you feel ignored, even scared… It’s all up in the air. “It.” It being feelings, emotions, over analyzed thoughts, risqué experiences – they all come together to form this giant looming darkness that overshadows any ray of sunshine, any glimpse of happiness or sense of laughter because after all, there is nothing to laugh at. You’re dealing with a past of unwanted, shattered memories,  broken hearts… maybe even still trying to mend the heart that hasn’t fully healed.

Skin to skin, we lay there wanting. “I like you” he says… I can’t help but smile, leaning in to kiss him, whispering in his ear “I like you too…” We share stories, funny incidents, personal secrets…our hopes and aspirations for the future. His lips, like his soul are kind and gentle; his eyes are like the color of a deep mahogany with the most subtle tint of forest green around the rim. His laughter melts the snow, encouraging the sun to come out and shine. He holds me in his arms and kisses my forehead… Is this what it’s like to be loved? I must say, it feels… it feels…? 

. . .

Today though…my mind is not experiencing this, nor is my heart. We go through the motions, but instead of feeling the release of butterflies that first time he kisses me, I find myself opening my eyes to darkness, disoriented in my own room, alone, afraid, and melancholic. Yet there he is, still standing there next to me, “smile my dear” he tells me as he flashes his own set of pearly whites. But I am in no mood to smile. I flash a nostalgic smile, tears slowly starting to rise. Oh boy, here I go again. I bite my bottom lip, and at once they disappear. He pulls me toward him and once again we embrace, our heartbeats trying to identify the same rhythm, our minds searching for answers as we stand there in darkness, with only the natural light of the moon shaping our silhouettes against the floor.

It has been 1 week since the truth has been revealed. 

But for me, my heart has longed for much longer…

I am impatient. I am selfish. I am emotional. In truth, I don’t know how to have a romantic relationship because I’ve never had one, actually I should say been in one. Oh how I’ve dreamed the dream and pictured the various dates we’d go on, but my faceless bachelor never came through. Maybe not until now. Even so, I question his intentions, which [shame on me] I know he is better than that. At least I hope. He is truly a wonderful, charming, and intelligent guy. And I greatly wonder what the future holds for him, for me, potentially for us?

Oh brain, or heart, or both…please stop playing games with me.

confused

~cheers~

Storytelling

The ear is such an interesting organ. You have the outer portion which is referred to as the pinna, followed by the external auditory canal (yes, the canal you’re not supposed to stick q-tips down…), my favorite part – the tympanic membrane (also referred to as the ear drum), 3 ossicles, the round window, cochlea, and several nerves that run to the brain.

While we’re on the topic of fascinating organs, the brain is by far the most intricate and exciting of them all. Especially pertaining to the hearing and translating messages, it amazes me how hair cells, hair cells, inside the ear change vibrations into electrical signals which then travels through the nerves.

The brain even likes to play “tricks” on us. For example, when people say “I can still hear that, or I remember hearing that…” It’s really the brain replaying those sounds. It stores sounds just like it stores memories. Maybe it shouldn’t be considered a trick, but sometimes the things you hear leave a lasting effect, regardless of it being good or bad, that ultimately changes the way you think about, relate with, or feel about yourself, someone else, and even the world around you.

I’ve realized a few things within the past couple of days:

1) Everyone is brought into your life for a reason – you cross paths with certain people to teach you a lesson; one of the most important lessons being is that people aren’t always who you expect them to be. Mostly because

2) Everyone has a secret

and even though I, like most people, have my own secrets too, I have realized that

3) I am a [better] listener, but also a storyteller. I learn more about others before I let them learn about me. Even my best friend back home, with whom I Skyped yesterday, doesn’t know every little detail about my life…although I did fill her in for the most part. But I digress.

Listening. It is one of the most fundamental skills taught at a very early age, among other things like reading, writing, and arithmetic. But listening, has its own special agenda. You must listen to follow instructions, comprehend a passage, understand how another person feels, hear the silence and appreciate its peace, and of course, learn how to become a storyteller.

Listen. Feel the sounds roll off your tongue or around in your mind. What do you hear? What do you see? I hear the pitter-patter of rain drops on the concrete outside, a fire truck wailing as it races by, lights flashing sporadically… I hear two eccentric voices, nervous breathing, and anxious hearts finally meeting and composing the most powerful yet gentle harmonic beating. Now think about what you feel? At this late an hour, I feel exhaustion, but not just my own. The late night Gatsby parties have taken a toll on a young man who lays unconscious on a couch, his chest slowly rising and falling. Nearby, his counterparts discuss the wild theme, the ostentatious attire, and the mystery of the host himself as he never did once make an appearance, or at least not that they saw, much less can remember…did they even know him?

I feel peace and concordance. The world wants to rest, although while some are falling into the deep trance or weariness, others are rising to greet the sun, to express their gratitude for their existence, or simply because being up before everyone else allows them to experience this great feeling of the magnificence and softness of silence.

I am a storyteller. If you have not noticed yet, I enjoy writing short entries about things, more specifically moments I witness. Moments that time determines with a blindfold. In other words, these moments may seem fleeting, but last longer than expected. Or on the other hand, they are forever unending, when in reality they lasted no longer than the time it takes to blink.

It is often through these stories that, if you find the deeper meaning, come to realize that these are my feelingsdesires, aspirations…I am not one to come out and directly say: “I’m feeling [insert emotion] today…” Unless I am extremely happy, then that would be the only exception.

I hide my feelings beneath the shield of words, words that when they fall together come across as a riddle or confusing statement, when in fact, is just my mind and/or heart’s way of poetically expressing my current emotional status.

Storytellers are also the best secret keepers. As I explained before, we learn about others before they learn about us. It is from their secrets that we build stories, discover feelings of love and compassion, sadness and mourning, fear and anxiousness, and tranquility and blank spaces. These secrets, almost stories if you rather, become a life of their own; it is all in the matter of how you carry them. Do you hold its hand like a child? Never letting go for fear it will run out onto life’s busy crossroads and end up hurting you or potentially someone else? Or risking its release on the battlefield only to unveil your weakness, forcing you to succumb to the newly founded pressures, hardships, and judgmental, maybe even lawful persecutions? Do you carry it on your back? Bearing its burden because by itself it cannot stand, or will not let you advance unless you accept the price you must pay if you were to leave it behind? Or do you let it run wild, blowing in the wind like dandelion fuzz across a grand field? Bits and pieces flying everywhere somehow still under your control, but more accessible to others as now it is fair game in this open space. Do you wear it on your sleeve? Maybe you’ve discreetly exposed your secret, but it takes a special eye to catch it, much less make sense of it.

You would be amazed by how much you would hear if only you removed the headphones from your ears, stopped listening to the condescending voices in and/or outside your head, and just observed the world around you. Embrace the silence, the noise, the emotion, the experience.

So I ask, what do you hear? What’s your story?

Content Marketing Storytelling

~cheers~