There is something beautiful about being comfortable in your own skin.
No need to chase perfection, no need to prove anything.
Just enjoying the sunshine, embracing the moment, and becoming a better version of myself every day. ❤️
BEAUTIFUL STORY: The Firefighters Called Me To Hold The Boy Who Just Killed His Mother
I'm fifty-four, a biker, both arms sleeved in ink, wearing the same leather cut I've had for three decades. I don't have a counseling license. I'm not a caseworker. No blood relation to anyone involved.
But at three in the morning, dispatch reached out to our motorcycle club's crisis line, and one line pulled me out from under the covers: "We need somebody who won't fall apart. The kid hasn't stopped screaming."
Forty minutes of rain in my face. When I rolled up, there were three fire engines out front, an ambulance behind them, and six firefighters standing on the lawn looking wrecked.
These are guys who charge into buildings that are burning down. Guys who've stood over more bodies than they can count.
Every one of them had tears on his face.
The captain met me at the front step. His hands wouldn't stay still. "The boy's five. Marcus. He smelled smoke, tried to wake his mom up. She told him to run outside and dial 911. He did exactly what she asked."
"She didn't get out?"
"Smoke got her. She pushed him to the door and went down in the hall."
"Where is he?"
"Kitchen. Won't let anybody near him. Keeps repeating that he killed her because he called 911 instead of dragging her out."
I stepped into that kitchen and something inside me came apart.
Marcus was jammed into the corner in yellow pajamas. His face was blotchy and wet. His whole body was shuddering hard enough that I could hear his teeth clicking together. And the same sentences kept spilling out of him.
"I killed my mommy! I was supposed to save her! I killed my mommy!"
I moved toward him slow. No sudden anything. Lowered myself onto the tile maybe three feet away.
He clocked the vest. The ink. My size. The screaming cut off for a second while he took me in.
"Hey, pal. I'm Danny. Gonna hang out right here for a bit. That okay?"
"I killed her," he whispered. "Mommy said go outside and I went and now she's gone and it's because of me."
"Can I tell you something, Marcus? Your mom said go outside because there was nothing on this planet she loved more than you. She needed you out of that house. Getting you through was worth more to her than her own breath."
"But I could've helped!" His voice climbed back to a shriek. "I could've pulled her out! I'm big enough!"
"No, buddy. You couldn't. And your mom knew that. That's the whole reason she sent you. If you'd stayed to help her, there'd be two people gone right now instead of one. She wasn't gonna let that happen."
"But she's dead and I don't have anybody and it's because I didn't save her!"
"Marcus, mind if I tell you something about me?"
He looked at me. Didn't nod. Didn't shake his head. Just looked.
"When I was eight, our house went up too. My dad shook me awake and told me to get out the window and run over to the neighbors. Said he was heading down the hall to grab my baby sister out of her crib."
I stopped for a second. Forty-six years later and telling it still stings.
"I did exactly what my dad said. Went out the window, ran through the yard. Stood there waiting for the two of them to come out." My throat closed for a beat. "They never did, Marcus. The roof came down."
Marcus stared at me. "Your daddy died?"
"And my baby sister. Her name was Emma. She was two."
"Did you think you did it too?"
"For a long time, buddy. I kept thinking maybe if I'd gone back through the window, both of them would still be here. I walked around thinking I was the one who killed them."
"But you were only a kid," Marcus said.
"So are you, pal. So are you."
Something in his face moved. Barely. But it moved.
"Would it be all right if I got closer?" I asked. "I won't touch you unless you want me to. But sitting through this by yourself isn't right."
He didn't answer with words. He threw himself across the tile and into me and mashed his face into my vest and let the crying take him all the way under.
I held on.
🔥 LMAO! A surprise SUPERSONIC BOMBER flyover at President Trump's welcome ceremony for Xi Jinping just caught EVERYONE off guard
It was a B-1 Lancer with FULL afterburner, RIPPING through during the Star Spangled Banner
Freaking legendary 🤣
🇯🇵 Japanese sportscaster and talent, Ami Inamura (稲村亜美), threw her fastest ball ever at 103 km/h (64 mph).
I imagine that for a non-professional this is pretty impressive!
NEW: Florida woman gives emotional testimony about being placed in solitary confinement for more than 3 days after a Flock camera falsely connected her vehicle to a deadly crash:
"Correctional officers told me I had to stay there because of the severity of my charges... The cell door was shut and it was not open for approximately 86 hours."
“I was terrified. I was facing the possibility of spending the rest of my life in prison for a crash I knew that I had not been involved in."
"At my lowest point, I didn't want to be alive.”
Lindsey Isaacs spent nearly 2 weeks in maximum-security jail before the charges were dropped.
This is Trump's Son.
An IQ of 170.
6.9 ft tall.
And the person who is responsible for Trump’s glorious victory.
The crazy part?
He is operating entirely from the shadows.
He never gave an interview to anyone.
TRUE GENIUS.