Undefined – Is being nothing defined, anything at all?

“Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.” – Bruce Lee

I read a script that’s not mine. I borrowed it from one of the many plays performed in front of me, in books, movies, and on the grand stage of the home of my youth. With a foreshortened future all hope was sterilized, leaving me with no inclination that tomorrow is a viable possibility. Desperate,  I grabbed dreams that weren’t my own. I didn’t possess the capability to birth those; but the dreams born by other souls, bestowed by fate to imagine another day. I took hold of the dream of a family. Years later, memories evade me with nothing but a handful of thoughts from all those moments. Next, a dream of religion. Another tragedy of errors. It seemed that I believed too much, a cultist obsession is the adopted child left after true faith leaves. What about belonging? To anything? I laughed as group after group, clique after clique, pushed me away. Finally I came to the end of my chasing. Self destruction, that calling accepted me, pulled me close and loved me with the hate I was accustomed to. That’s where I find myself, scraping back the detritus of conformity, aborted dreams, and superficial survival, playing in the puddle of tears, long ago cried, never again to grace my face with those salty trails. Forcing my mind to comprehend dreams, so difficult a process, full of discouragement with disappointing trivial drama, I breathe. Pushing forward, whatever direction that may be, is tough, going backwards offers a comforting alternative. I live in the present, scripting my dreams daily, then burning them at the alter of change every evening. Is being nothing that can be defined, anything at all?

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

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Undefined – Is being nothing defined, anything at all?

“Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.” – Bruce Lee

I read a script that’s not mine. I borrowed it from one of the many plays performed in front of me, in books, movies, and on the grand stage of the home of my youth. With a foreshortened future all hope was sterilized, leaving me with no inclination that tomorrow is a viable possibility. Desperate,  I grabbed dreams that weren’t my own. I didn’t possess the capability to birth those; but the dreams born by other souls, bestowed by fate to imagine another day. I took hold of the dream of a family. Years later, memories evade me with nothing but a handful of thoughts from all those moments. Next, a dream of religion. Another tragedy of errors. It seemed that I believed too much, a cultist obsession is the adopted child left after true faith leaves. What about belonging? To anything? I laughed as group after group, clique after clique, pushed me away. Finally I came to the end of my chasing. Self destruction, that calling accepted me, pulled me close and loved me with the hate I was accustomed to. That’s where I find myself, scraping back the detritus of conformity, aborted dreams, and superficial survival, playing in the puddle of tears, long ago cried, never again to grace my face with those salty trails. Forcing my mind to comprehend dreams, so difficult a process, full of discouragement with disappointing trivial drama, I breathe. Pushing forward, whatever direction that may be, is tough, going backwards offers a comforting alternative. I live in the present, scripting my dreams daily, then burning them at the alter of change every evening. Is being nothing that can be defined, anything at all?

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

An Essay of Change – Great change comes from within

In the death of a moment, there lies the birth of tomorrow

I give way this time, but in the end, no sorrow.

crestock

    
I have to clear the way for a change to take place. I have to shove off from shore, from the expected, the habitual. Push myself into the storm were I will see what I am, and better yet, become a new thing. How will I know of what I am capable of unless I‘m pushed to the outermost limits of my understanding and endurance, physically, mentally, and emotionally? I must embrace the cataclysm of my existence. Great man are great by passing through the vice-like press of doubt, fear, loneliness, and tragedy. Through being broken, I can be made whole, maxing out my potential. 
     
I have no way to explain that who I am now, is no where near who I was a year ago. Remnants, yes, perhaps. It is a strange knowing, a responsibility, to be made whole after so long. No more blame for the past, no more excuses. I am tethered up so high on the crux of the rock, that even if I fall from here, I will never be as far down as I was earlier in my life. Now, I set my sights ever higher. To the next summit, the next storm, I will press on.

An Essay of Change – Great change comes from within

In the death of a moment, there lies the birth of tomorrow

I give way this time, but in the end, no sorrow.

crestock

    
I have to clear the way for a change to take place. I have to shove off from shore, from the expected, the habitual. Push myself into the storm were I will see what I am, and better yet, become a new thing. How will I know of what I am capable of unless I‘m pushed to the outermost limits of my understanding and endurance, physically, mentally, and emotionally? I must embrace the cataclysm of my existence. Great man are great by passing through the vice-like press of doubt, fear, loneliness, and tragedy. Through being broken, I can be made whole, maxing out my potential. 
     
I have no way to explain that who I am now, is no where near who I was a year ago. Remnants, yes, perhaps. It is a strange knowing, a responsibility, to be made whole after so long. No more blame for the past, no more excuses. I am tethered up so high on the crux of the rock, that even if I fall from here, I will never be as far down as I was earlier in my life. Now, I set my sights ever higher. To the next summit, the next storm, I will press on.