And just like that I’ll pick up exactly where I left off – motivated equally by envy and need – sensing the crushing boundaries of time
So, I breathe in the eternity of now, write it down; make it permanent.
I’ve spent at least the last decade trying to mold the real world into the one inside my head and have spent a good part of it wondering if I’ve dedicated myself to a false reality. It’s silly, really. I am a professional at making things reality by assuming they are such. It has served me well. I write, so I am a writer. I travel, so I am a traveller, I instigate, therefore I am an instigator. There’s nothing false about it.
I’ve more words in my head than I know what to do with; emotions that don’t always lend themselves to translation. And in raw moments of reflection, I know for certain I am capable of more.
There are others out there like me. We, who wallow in damp silence. We, who can shake rooms with our rage; we, who reject oppressive schedules . We, who understand that proximity to fear is both pain and pleasure. We, who indulge in embarrassing moments of bravery.
We, who make impossible things lovely.
We, who know we are not reconciled to chains.
We are all learning through the tension of uncertainty, and are all a little removed from okay.
Tonight, instead of sitting in expectation of more, I’ll assume it is such, and make it so.