I used to know exactly what I needed. There was a time when I could wake up, walk outside, and feel what my body and my mind were craving. Now it's harder to tell. Now my instincts are less sure-footed.
But, in a lot of ways, I did get what I wanted. I got out of Cedar. I got to disappear. I got away from the people and the culture and the religion that I didn't really like that much. Despite my constant anxiety about being a "failure" who "everybody hates," I am a working artist. I am, quite objectively, making it.
On Getting What You Want Out of Life
I have a habit of working myself all up to want something...really want something...and when I finally knock on the door of opportunity...I knock just once. Ba-dump bump, it's me, any room in the inn? and if it doesn't open, I turn away, go sit down, and remain motionless for years at a time.
2017 11 April :: 10.13am
:: Mood: relieved
:: Music: general funk
Another door shut. Another tangent I don't have to explore. The older I get, the less pressure I feel to twist myself into all these unnatural pretzel shapes. The less I feel the need to change to fit the image I see in my head, or to meet the expectations of others. Overall it's a good thing, but at the same time I'm left with more questions: If my path isn't being defined by the authorities in my life, by the institutions that I once looked up to, then it's all up to me. And what do I want it to look like?
Do I want to get married? To be somebody's wife? Is that something I ever really wanted?
I wish now more than ever that I hadn't shut you out. You believed in me, never mocked me for what I liked. What would you have said to me when I was ten years old?