My mind is narrated these days, not unlike Guy Madden's "Brand Upon the Brain." A mysterious voice echoing the haunting utterings of the film's repeating lines: "Secretssss... secretsss!" And "The past... the past..."
Not gonna lie: it's fucking exhausting. (side note: I am slightly appalled to notice that spellcheck did not correct "gonna")
I entered 2009 with such purpose, such ambition, and even more direction than I've had in my entire adult life. So empowered. But, as I near my 25th birthday, I've felt a dwindling of my inside force. I've let my Id take control of me one too many times to feel in control and balanced, in so doing I've given certain others power over me, in my own mind.
I started the year such a free spirit, but I've sabataged my efforts by attempting to tether myself to someone or something I sometimes mistakingly feel I need. But the realization is, that would never make me happy, and instant gratification is just that: it only gratifies for that one tiny instant. It punches a hole inside of you that wasn't there before, and now the hole will ever grow, like a tear in a sofa cushion, and need to be filled unless you can transcend it. Only then can the hole self-mend.
I am restless, pacing, only in cages I've built myself.
But on the other hand, even a free spirit gets weary, and needs a place to land, a nest to crash into.
Now. Where was I?
Ah, yes. Moving on...
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