Getting There.

it's strange. I had a talk with someone today about perspective, life, happiness.

Standard procedure response, when someone asks where I am…. I say that I'm 'getting there'.

In all honesty isn't wasn't a lie. It wasn't entirely the truth. But it was accurate statement.

Somewhat true because for a second there I felt as if I had fallen... to lose the ground right up from under you can be life altering.

In this case it wasn't.

Maybe it's because I've been hurt and disappointed way too many times to allow myself to get there... or maybe it's too soon and I'm still searching, differentiating the idea between myself and others. But looking back something already in me senses that it won't be.

The thing is... taking two steps backward has inevitably allowed me to reconnect with myself and progress forward…. Because of this I can breathe. Really breathe... I can hear my own breath, and for as insane as things are around me it's a constant solace.

I think when I initially said that I was getting there, I meant it in a very different context. I felt shaken, close to being shattered, momentarily broken, but still intact. whatever breaks I may have incurred over the years only tore small pieces generating scar tissue… But that space allowed me to stretch, and grow... test my boundaries while expanding a stronger sense of self.

These past weeks have been no different.

and while I can honestly look back, retrace my steps, wonder about the potentials or the what if's... I know that I have always been honest, dedicated, and loyal throughout this entire process, regardless of outside perspective. And at the end of the day there's nothing I could have done to change my outcome or other individual's indignation towards me.

Because of this, the notion of 'getting there' has taken on an entirely new meaning.

I will always be moving, floating or at rest, but progressing into myself...

I am good.

And when I said it today, everything fell silent.

I could have picked apart a million things, went to so many different places, but when I thought about the question... I could only hear one answer.

And maybe that will fluctuate... I'm still feeling my way through this... alone, searching for something through this proverbial darkness... But in the darkness something has irrevocably shifted in me.

I feel the warmth of something beyond myself, beckoning me into a new beginning, leading me into an unknown future… and for as daunting as that notion may seen… I can't but move, float, run, climb into the warmth. Out of the darkness, and into the light.

blacking out the friction

i sift through your pages to hear my voice. my fingers tattered, littered with cuts, incisions due to the incessant hopes of being something more than an afterthought. i can’t help but think that this right will never be enough to measure against any of our potential wrongs. that our choices will never bring us back here. and though i am rarely one to regret, i am beginning to reevaluate that notion. reevaluate how to sever synapses, cement together walls to make this justification fit along the rift we will begin build. i guess it shouldn’t matter anymore, especially when you can’t change what is.

Fleeting Maybes.

I can’t believe all of this happened. All in one instant, one flash. And as I stood there I realized, that I had no one to talk to or share this with. I realized in that moment how singular my existence can be.

And I didn’t know how to respond, even if I did there would be no one there to listen.

Maybe these fleeting moments have always been solitary for a reason.

Maybe I was meant to enjoy them within the confines of my mind, or maybe… just maybe.. one day I can say something contrary.

I guess we all have our dreams. This one is mine.

Q but where's the A?

So I’ve been thinking about writing something. Which is probably not the best idea considering I have enough on my plate that I can barely finish. I started on it about a year ago. A multitude of interactions based what appears to be two individuals.

Not a far reach considering that I tend to dissociate on a semi-regular basis….

I guess my only issue would be… where to begin, how much of myself do I really want to creatively invest in this venture… do I include semi-autobiographical information… and if so how much should genuinely disclose?

Tough questions. I have a lot of it down already. Now the fun part begins.

Predilection: Day One.

I broke my promise, for the first time in almost a year. I don’t really know how to feel about it. I don’t think I feel angry. I was able to sustain that long, a year is a decent amount of time I suspect.

I’m not disappointed either. It doesn’t hurt anyone, especially myself or the people around me. It was just this one thing, I’ve never been able to shake. I think there was a point were I was inspired to abstain. There hasn’t been much I haven’t been able to kick, and at that point it felt good to know that there were others around me who were able to cut there own predilections either for the sake of themselves or their relationships with me. Should have known it couldn’t really last.

Not with them. Nor me. So here I am. Day one all over again.

And I don’t really seem to mind. Why should I, no one else seems to.