Rebirth

I die a lot.

Look, it’s not a secret in real life that I recluse into the void of my own isolationist tendencies. If you think I talk in circles on here, you should hear it in my head.

I digress.

I struggle intensely with consistency. Not for the lack of trying, but the fact remains that in all ways but one I feel stunted. I trust that what I write down, speak about, learn about, etc. are all generally well and good, however, I struggle with remembering where I put down my point in the fervor of new discoveries or old wounds. I have spent lifetimes rehashing and reinventing to make myself seem more interesting, more informed, more, more and more of this or that and the third, fifth, and seventh. I fear, at this point, I have become a cartoon character. A caricature of myself. But boy am I smart! Boy am I informed! Oh boy, am I just the silliest student. Paying out the nose in both money and varying mental states.

With merit and talent as the vehicles for any creative’s success, now understood to be as non-existent as public transportation in the South, it begs the questions:

What’s the point?

Why am I on here?

Why start 15 ideas that have no finish?

Why do I care if they’re not finished?

Who is really listening?

Why does any of the above matter?

I am many things, but consistent seems to be not one…unless I am thinking about it the wrong way. Which would not be surprising, in the least, ever.

I take great pride in my own ability to see things that someone else may not. And an even greater ego boost from being able to explain it. So, what the f*** am I missing?

Everything is a horror and I am just a ghost. Floating along, feeling it out amongst the mortals while I assume myself to be in the periphery of many of your lives. I am interested in a lot of things, I like observing them, choosing when to participate and when to not. Sometimes, I lose myself in that participation. Wondering how I must have seemed to any one of you, at that time.

Did I ruin the illusion?

or

Is the illusion in my head?

And while the impetus to have done things the way I’ve done them for so long has been at the behest of others, whether perceived needs or my own projections…

I think I understand now that I owe no one an explanation as to why or how I do things. I do them the way I do them because it’s the best way I know how, in the moment. And that will change, constantly. Seeking balance between public and private life. Accepting that I have both a public presence and a private way of being.

And yet, I do not see myself clearly.

Maybe that’s it though.

To keep throwing things into the ether until something sticks. To understand that even when it does adhere, change is close to follow.

To accept that you, and I, are truly here.

Thanks for the continued reading. I promise it all connects, but some of you already know that.

stay tuned and stay diligent, little ghosts.