The Importance Of Being
Self-realization dawns to some at an early age. I suppose they are the lucky ones, able to get their act together and focus on what they need to get through. I don’t think I fall under that category. Adolescence was not the easiest phase for me. I can’t look back at myself as a kid and relate to anything really. I feel as though I’m a different person, and I probably am. Looking back at my teenage years, I wonder what the fuck was wrong with me – attention seeking, misbehaved brat. I’m glad for the changes that have taken place. And yet, I don’t know where to go from here.
Today I woke up from a strange dream. I think my subconscious was trying to tell me something about the people I associate with. It wasn’t really anything negative, just things I already knew. The night before it was about someone I’ve become rather close to, perhaps too attached. I allow myself to get attached to the people that I love, and at times they can take advantage of that. It makes me feel disposable. And a lot of the time I do.
I want to be able to love freely, fully, with no care for the future or the past. I am a firm believer in the present. To me this is all that exists. Right now, this present that I am experiencing, in this moment I am not happy. I am not content. I am longing. I am hurting. The importance, however, lies in being. I am here. I am breathing. I am alive. And I am thankful for that. I can’t stop thinking about the alternate trajectories in which my path could have headed. I look at the lines in my palm and wonder what it means.
A year ago I lost my mind. I don’t think I’ve found it still. I don’t know if I want it back. I’m quite comfortable pretending to be sane. I watched a line appear on my palm. A red impression made onto my flesh. I stared at it with all the significance in the world. Though I had no idea what it meant. It was as though my body was telling me to change the path I was walking down. And so I did.
So here I am now, mad season upon me. Wondering how long sanity will prevail. Work keeps me distracted. Distraction is key, I’ve been told. Yet all it takes is that little tick inside your brain. That ever-so silent ‘click’ that turns the tables over and sets all hell loose. I hope not to hear that sound again.