I shouldn’t be here. My parents tried for six long years before they had me. And after nine months of being in the womb, I still didn’t want to come out. I was a full grown baby living inside someones stomach until the doctors decided enough was enough. And now that I’m out (unwillingly), 34 years later, I still haven’t left. Not really.
I always keep one foot outside reality, placed in a dream that I no longer belong to. A dream of vast possibilities, of emptiness (the good kind). A dream I could never understand or grasp for more than a few seconds at a time.
Lately I’ve been getting flashes of serenity. Of some great power hidden inside me. A power that I once knew how to wield, far before I knew this world. It’s not exactly destiny, more like learning who I am. Learning my capabilities and learning what I can do is just another way of learning who I am.
To avoid sounding vague, and to avoid subjective misinterpretations of what I’m saying, I’ll be clear.
I feel golden.
Not all the time mind you, just flashes. They are golden flashes amid a sea of worry, sadness, doubt, and depression. The sea of fear is where this little golden child was born into. A place where she choses to keep one foot affixed in the interstellar matrix of wonder and amazement. Of possibilities that allude and delude….shit my next client is here.
It’s now the next day. What the hell was I talking about yesterday? It’s the kind of post that never leaves my draft folder. My draft folder has hundreds of these doodles. I call them “doodles” because they’re meaningless and have no ending.
Life is a doodle of creation.
There I go again. WTF brain?
I’m in work and just finished with my last client. Now I have to go to Target to exchange some curtain rods, then Joe-anne Fabric to get about 6 yards of fleece for face cradle covers (they are less expensive that way), then Bed Bath & Beyond to get their cute water jug with a spout and a versatile $50 cabinet that can store all my face cradle covers. Then off to Pier One to pick up my bench that just came in, then to my office where I have mass tons of work to do. Massive truck loads of work.
This is the shit that no one cares about. The shit that goo’s up your brain. Where am I in all this? I haven’t’ been sleeping or eating. I look atrocious.
My Dad – “You look horrible.”
Me – “It’s windy out and I haven’t been sleeping.”
That video I shot a few days ago, I was tired then, but things keep piling up and I look even worse now. I can’t breathe, I can’t relax.
Shit, I have leave to go do all that stuff. I need to go to the post office and the bank too. Oh man…..
This post is rubbish. My brain can’t think when it’s like this.