“We are all prisoners between the walls of our beliefs.” – Leandru Viegas
It has been a while…and with good reason.
In the last seven months, summer into autumn into winter, I’ve assessed myself by taking a step back. Maybe I’ve been too prideful before…I don’t truly know. Regardless, it’s constructive in the sense that I can admit how wrong I was…about everything. When I walked into a room, I didn’t realize the ignorance of my monologue, my performance, and how much I clamored to audiences.
It was a mask. It wasn’t me. If I sound repetitive, I understand; however, tearing those false layers asunder has been my life’s work (more than anything else). My job situation is fluid as is my history with friends and women.
I think too much; confuse, confound, distance, and even have frightened those who have tried. That doesn’t mean I’m frightening. It simply means a crisis could have been averted and I didn’t stop the bleeding (or shut my mouth in time).
For some time, I carried this pall like an albatross. There wasn’t much space for faith in something other than surviving. That said, I don’t do much. My Netflix and Hulu subscriptions get a regular workout. I profess this due to the fact that it produces discomfort. And like a notable Fortune cookie once advised: “Discomfort is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation.”
Lately, visions and peoples from the past have acted as harbingers. Of what? I’m honestly not sure. Don’t misunderstand…I speak as though life will just arrive as I wait. What I do know is how ineffective sitting on the bench is. I know.
So my energy, whether anyone cares or not, will be spent compiling a solution. Outside perceptions no longer matter to me; I cannot control people’s thoughts; they do not have the whole story and maybe they never will.
I may not become…
a professional author
but imaginary milestones have little to no bearing on where I’m going or where I’ll truly arrive.
Despite this mindset, I couldn’t fathom how lonely it would be.
It is what it is.
Bye for now, KS.