Who am I?Who do I want to become?Do I want to be just one person or a thousand,a million,a billion more?Am I bound to the past,anchored in the present or in love with the future?Boy,oh,boy,am I in for one Hell of a soul-search...
I can't help but wonder what the outcome of my life will be.Long,short,it really doesn't matter.The most important question is whether it will have meaning and substance and a purpose.Or more.Or less...
Truth be told,I don't want to wake up when I'm 50 years old and admit I'm unhappy,then blame it on society,on my family,on myself.On the other hand,my heart hides a spectrum of desires which I know not how to tame.Which one do I grasp and fulfill first?How do I know what mistakes to make and which ones to leave hanging?When will this foggy veil become a blessed light?My,oh,my...
I don't think I can balance just one identity at a time.I just can't!There's this...thing inside of me,a core always on the verge of metamorphosis,blending,twisting,howling,scratching,screaming,transforming into all and nothing at the same time.And I adore my monster,indecisions and all!I really do...But it scares me to death.
Do you know who and what I am right now?An angel with blue wings.A sleepy college student.Boots crushing gray snow.A sly smile on the subway.A frightened little girl.A spirit following a quest for salvation.The person who says "Thank you!" in every shop,train station and on every street corner.An anxious,shy,sometimes overly complicated specimen.A head full of crimson curls,wrapped up in rainbow-like clothes and bright sensations.Eyes glued to a scarlet book.An unknown soldier who weeps on the inside at the sight of home.Greed,lust,happiness and sorrow in flesh and bone.A cat-lover,dream-dweller and imagination-seeker.A mechanism which feeds upon sound,image and feelings.A daughter,a sister,a friend.Something and someone I can rarely believe is true.
This!This is the reason why I find it hard to understand (and swallow) that I have to display only one facade at a time.I'm so much more than this world sees and I want to prove my words,be perfect in everything I do,but...I can't.I know that.I realize and acknowledge it.And it hurts.It hurts to know you will never become the person you have so painfully crafted inside your head to the finest detail.That you will have to settle for half or less of everything in order to make it all work.And so,greatness wallows into the gutter,content with only a morsel of mediocrity.Indecision-why,oh,why?
I want to be a writer.Scribble my thoughts on every page,every wall,every soul of this planet.Become one with ink,tattoo myself upon the white skin of trees,release my overflowing,silent and encaged twin.It's all I know how to be and all I want to be...A good person.A rightful citizen.A singer.A painter.A lover.A mother.I want to be a creator.To make,to craft,to bring to life.Everything at once,like a river woven out of black and white waters from around the world.I want to be...different.Amazing.Important....But there's a long way from "wanting" to "having" and/or "being".So...We'll see how this turns out to be.
I'm here.I'm real.I'm capable and willing.I'm going to make myself.
I don't think I can balance just one identity at a time.I just can't!There's this...thing inside of me,a core always on the verge of metamorphosis,blending,twisting,howling,scratching,screaming,transforming into all and nothing at the same time.And I adore my monster,indecisions and all!I really do...But it scares me to death.
Do you know who and what I am right now?An angel with blue wings.A sleepy college student.Boots crushing gray snow.A sly smile on the subway.A frightened little girl.A spirit following a quest for salvation.The person who says "Thank you!" in every shop,train station and on every street corner.An anxious,shy,sometimes overly complicated specimen.A head full of crimson curls,wrapped up in rainbow-like clothes and bright sensations.Eyes glued to a scarlet book.An unknown soldier who weeps on the inside at the sight of home.Greed,lust,happiness and sorrow in flesh and bone.A cat-lover,dream-dweller and imagination-seeker.A mechanism which feeds upon sound,image and feelings.A daughter,a sister,a friend.Something and someone I can rarely believe is true.
This!This is the reason why I find it hard to understand (and swallow) that I have to display only one facade at a time.I'm so much more than this world sees and I want to prove my words,be perfect in everything I do,but...I can't.I know that.I realize and acknowledge it.And it hurts.It hurts to know you will never become the person you have so painfully crafted inside your head to the finest detail.That you will have to settle for half or less of everything in order to make it all work.And so,greatness wallows into the gutter,content with only a morsel of mediocrity.Indecision-why,oh,why?
I want to be a writer.Scribble my thoughts on every page,every wall,every soul of this planet.Become one with ink,tattoo myself upon the white skin of trees,release my overflowing,silent and encaged twin.It's all I know how to be and all I want to be...A good person.A rightful citizen.A singer.A painter.A lover.A mother.I want to be a creator.To make,to craft,to bring to life.Everything at once,like a river woven out of black and white waters from around the world.I want to be...different.Amazing.Important....But there's a long way from "wanting" to "having" and/or "being".So...We'll see how this turns out to be.
I'm here.I'm real.I'm capable and willing.I'm going to make myself.
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