Strange as it may be, I feel like I needed to be pushed and swayed like a leaf in the wind, if only to stir my senses back to their prime. Perhaps it was necessary to mirror myself against unfamilliar situations to see who will peer back at me. But now that thirst has been quenched and it is time to let my blood burn for something truly fulfilling.
Everything around me serves as fuel for inspiration. I need but the tiniest spark and combustion is sure to follow. With isolation has come clarity, with clarity came stillness. With stillness I was able to re-introduce myself to my motivation, woefully absent as of late. I average about a song a day now and inspiration flows unrestricted yet again.
Chaos has its appeal, but working with focus and temperance means things get done swiftly and with surprising ease. I found my center without anyone's help or guidance, which has done wonders to solidify both my will and fortitude.
Some sort of resolution? Could be. Distance has offered me a measure of insight and that, in turn, has made it easy to discard excess baggage. I am no longer serving as some sort of road guard blocking my own advance.
I really couldn't tell you what I was looking for as I crashed into one person after another. For the most part I didn't rack my brain about it, opting instead to just let events take their course and let the chips fall where they may. A brilliant plan right up to the moment when something goes tits up. The Great Disservice I provided to all involved was to overthink and overwhelm situation after situation. I didn't ask for any of this, but I'm honestly thankful for every scoop. As a result, I'm a bit too exposed for my own liking, but it's really not much of a cross to bear.
I'm fed up with walking into situations where people who think they know me make some sort of value judgement based on what they thought they knew and how my actions tipped the scales in some unforeseen direction. I don't fit into their narrow mindset and I'm glad of it, but sometimes it would be nice to be met with other than preconceptions filtered through the subdued vision of another. I'm a walking contradiction and feel absolutely no obligation to justify anything to anyone. Still, if given the choice, I'd rather remain oblivious of how often people try to stuff me into the rectangular hole when I feel more like a triangle at that particular moment. I suppose we're all like that, the question being how often and how much you're willing to bend to fit into someone else's puzzle box. Me? Never could bend worth a damn.
Now, as the dust slowly settles, I reckon the worst mishap in all of this was getting caught in my own construct of smoke & mirrors. Everything still feels so new and most days tend to remind me I'm still a tourist in the realm of human helices entwined. Perhaps I had something in my system that needed to be released. An itch to be scratched? I really can't say for sure. But I do feel purged somehow, strangely balanced by the quiet following all those bewildering moments now well and truly behind me.
It has all been a hindrance on what I set out to accomplish by leaving my old life behind. I allowed my creative enterprises to spin their wheels as I briefly lost myself somewhere between playing games and being a pawn. But no more. I'm tired of thinking about other people's feelings, let alone playing shrink to my own dichotomy. Tired of caring. That may sound a bit harsh, but allow me to elaborate.
It's not to say I'd step over a granny lying sobbing in the snow or turn a deaf ear to a friend's sorrows. What I'm tired of are those whispered words we share with the one(s) lying next to us behind closed doors. Tired of trying to settle petty feuds orchestrated by fragile emotions, someone else's or my own. Tired of navigating the angry sea after hearts and minds have clashed and the safety of the coastline disappears in the distance. Joy, warmth and other potential rewards seem pale in comparison. There is certainly something to be said about having no one to answer to.
With perspective it all seems so trivial, especially after coming to terms with how far these little charades are from anything truly grandiose. But that also serves as a reminder of how fickle a beast perspective is. Even the smallest box you can stuff yourself into may seem to stretch beyond its reaches if the confine it offers is all you see.
Pretty schizophrenic, I know. But as I said, I think I needed a good shaking for the pieces to fall into their place. And now? Now I wish for no more than a little piece of distance and oblivion I can call my own. I think I'm entitled to it.
My side, your side. My side, your side.
