Facing yourself, the down, damned and dirty. You feel the soot, the sweat, the oil on your face at night. You feel the cracks, the calluses, you pick at the gunk under the fingernails of your fiddling hand.
Facing yourself, the down, damned and dirty.
You know your ugly. You know your regrets, your hate, every unethical thought you’ve had, you spit at yourself in spite and shame. Oh, you know your ugly.
You execute yourself, so willing you put your head on the chopping block, you even cut the damn rope of the guillotine. Facing yourself.
But afterward, you pick up your head and place it back on your shoulders just so as to avert any suspicion of your crookedness. And you walk on.
Your foe, the eyes looking back at you in the mirror, mocks you because they see right through the makeup, the BS, the excuses.
You know what’s real and you know what you fight for. Which is why you walk with that load on your shoulders.
What you expose is your beauty and your strength. Your ugliness, bent, surrenders to the better parts of you. You know your ugly which is why you look so damn good.
It’s the sound your mind makes. When you drift off into yourself, and reality gets pushed behind. It’s something you don’t notice until you are snapped back into realness.
Inspiration can be found in anything you find beautiful. Whether it be an ugly beauty, or the definition of it, it can stir something within you. Sometimes its effect is great. Sometimes it’s meant to stay in that moment. Wherever you find it, keep it close. Let it ignite your ambitions, and steer your flight.
Lights connecting in your brain, ideas begin to shine through the rest of it all. You get lost in the paths intertwining, creating a maze of thoughts–the kind where there’s no way out.
You know, it’s kind of like those drawings you would make as a kid–at least the kind I would make. Where you make lines and shapes on a page of paper without picking up your utensil, and you find a way to connect it all. Then, you fill in each shape made with different colors, creating a map of colors. That’s what I imagine creativity taking shape from inspiration looks like.
And my favorite part about it? No two drawings look the same. It’s like a snowflake but cooler. It’s created solely from your beautiful mind.
You have it in you. Everyone does. At different extents. Different pictures get painted. Some people use colors that others don’t. That’s what makes thought so interesting.
Embracing it is a whole ‘nother level of beauty. That’s the kind that inspires others. People living with this breadth are my favorite kind of people. Life seems better when you surround yourself with thinkers.
It has been difficult organizing my thoughts. I thought it would be easy–I thought good writing topics would just spew out of my finger tips. I have been fearfully mistaken. When a thought brews in my mind I think, “this is a great theme to write about.” But then just as fast as the thought enters my head, it is whimsically carried away and lost in the wind storm of my mind.
Cliche as it sounds, this summer was supposed to be a big one for me. This is the last summer before I am finished with school at my University. I feel like I NEED to get my shit together before my next semester starts up, or this next school year will be perpetually out of balance. With this new summer air, my mind has been lost in the anticipation of camping trips, weddings, beaching, day drinking, and other summer shenanigans. I live out my work week telling myself “just two more shifts, and then I am on vacation.” This mentality is catching up to me. The summer is going by faster than desired. It’s like each month is gone in a week. It’s freaking my out that the time I have dedicated to finding peace within myself seems to be dwindling just as fast as every sunset. Days are passing me by, and I am beginning to wonder if I am doing what I am suppose to be doing.
Ever wish you could have a peak at the plan the universe has set up for you? Well, I think about this all the time. I’m not one for believing in destiny, but I do wonder who I will become in the next 10 years and if I am on the right path to reach who I want to become. The way I think about it is the universe puts opportunity after opportunity in your reach. As soon as you reach out for one of these copious opportunities, the trajectory of your life shifts. Some are larger than others, but all decisions made by us lead us to our future selves. Of course, there are forces out of our control and I cannot speak on how to react to these because honestly, I have idea how to. I still get frustrated and sometimes hate the uncontrollable forces that appear in my life.
I think I would like to meet a monk, and get a look at what it looks like to have ALL your shit together and to be so close to the divine that the understanding of the world runs through you. I am fine with accepting that I probably will never know how to be a devoted being like a monk or guru–I am FAR too emotional. But I do strive to experience the beauty of inner peace. I’m beginning to feel that this is the path I should choose live by. Physical life is not satisfying me in the way that I need. I am self destructive, and I need to go beyond my physical life to fix it. I need to open myself up to begin a spiritual journey, or I fear I will stay lost. My hope is, the lost do not stay lost.
The sweet wind after the brief rainfall fills my loft. The sun streaks into my windows giving the room a golden glow. The bass from the Glass Animals radio station lightly shakes the wood floors. This is a brief timeless beauty. I enter it in a daze, and gaze out the window looking over the wet bright streets of Old Town–thick clouds off in the distance. The moment stays long and dramatic, lingering in the moment–as if catching up with an old friend. The cool wind against the hot sticky air produces a sweet–perfect– breeze into my golden lit loft.
I hear a soft “Hey you.” behind me in the thick daze. I turn around and see my love standing there–delighted it’s him.