Everyday life seems to be weighing down, I forget that I am in this for the long haul, that my life is just beginning, and that I have so much more time to do everything I want to do.
I am soaring through my career at a speed that translates the very impatience within my soul. As if the sacrifices I am making today, are not going to put me where I desire to be tomorrow.
I don't talk too much about love on here, mainly because I don't want to wallow in drama, or seem openly vulnerable. I've never been too lucky in love. Whether it was because we were too young to make those big decisions, or we were too insecure to be mature about the decisions we were forced to make. The relationships I have found myself in, I will admit, have consumed me. Those boys were factions of my imagination, because they never turned out to be as good as I thought they were. They were never that full package. Therefore, they could never be the man I needed them to be.
To be honest, I am 24 years old, and with every experience I have, and every feeling that does creep up on me, I am still learning what I want in a man. When I pull from every experience I have, every feeling I allow myself to feel runs through my body like fuel to an engine. The memories from both of these serve as reminders towards what I am doing, where I am going. But sometimes, I still feel so stuck. Like I somehow have to be everything at once for someone in order to fall in love, or make a relationship work. I realize this may all sound a bit jaded, like all I've ever experienced is heartache. The jaded corners of my past fade like lines on a chalkboard, they will never fully disappear.
Destiny is such a teenage pop story concept, the quicker we grow up the more we frame that idea of fate into faith.
My mother raised me to be a strong woman, to recognize my mistakes, but to not put up with making the same one twice. She taught me to be a avid listener, and a passionate believer in the good of life and the people who make up my own. I thank my lucky stars every day for the upbringing I had, without it I would be lost. Even more than I am now.
Positive thinking, sometimes, can be the most difficult thing you do.
There are days when I simply rise above it all. I adopt a new perspective and a run with it until I forget what it was that I was rising above in the first place.
Last night, I had a chance to thrive in the practicality of this concept. I sat on the ledge of my bedroom window, looking out into a city skyline blurred by the flurries of snow which hid its complete beauty. At the same time, I felt as though I was seeing the city in a new light. Like above all the chaos and insensitivity there is something beautiful and unseen. Like the quiet of the night was a clean slate to the negativity of the day. Its moments like these that we all need on occasion. A perspective so innately original, so captivating and refreshing, and we remember why we go through everything else.
Those moments, imprisoned in time yet brought with me as a memory, help me to accept the sacrifices I am making so that at the end of my road, my big picture, is even more developed. The loneliness drips through my painting like teardrops, but I have to know that its all worth something in the end.
The scars and tears, so harsh and ineffective in the moment create the perfect geometry to an otherwise cluttered yet exciting journey.
