It’s been one hell of a month. I couldn’t even write if I wanted too. So I just drew pictures instead. Sitting quietly recreating portraits. Not thinking. Not feeling. Only doing. Smudging graphite into thick white paper. Messy hands, old thinned out joggers and coffee. Cigarette after cigarette. I know now, I was purging, and it’s almost impossible to feel right when you’re purging.
So, I just stopped. Stopped everything.
I said a huge fuck it, to living up to expectations, suffering under imagined pressure and just gave up. I got really sick and tired of people, of burdens, of fighting with my own mind, of giving everything I had to everyone else, and saving nothing for myself. It was my fault, even though it came from the right place. Sometimes you just have to lay low, say no, and get your shit together. Which is exactly what I’m doing. Coming out on the flip side, it all makes sense. But, not in the beginning, and so this is why I haven’t been writing. I just…had nothing honest to say.
I’m not ready to share, this big revelation I’ve experienced, but I will in due time. Let’s just say for now…without this truth, having been revealed, I would have stayed under ground for a long time. But, that’s not what happened, and I’m so very grateful.
I can say, for the very first time in my life…
I KNOW EXACTLY WHO I AM.
No doubt. Only solid ground. Sturdy shoes on my feet.A strong voice. Full and deep.
I’ll leave it here..and say..I’m back.
Let’s do this thing.