God Dammit.  

Don’t you hate it when the energy in the universe makes you deal with all the subconscious shit that lies within the layers of your inner being, and all you want to do is write fun and humorous shit for enjoyment?  No? Just me? It’s cool.

It’s why writing has been a fucking nightmare lately.  My head and heart have drifted into this emo world (perhaps it’s PMS), where I am left flipping-off the deep struggle in my heart – giving it the mighty middle. (you can read about the deeper wrestle stuff on some recent posts I’ve written here)

No, no, not really, I am embracing it, but really another part of me, the inner 3 year old, really just wants to go out and fucking play.  But instead, noooooo. I have to sit in Saturday detention while I deal with all the shit choices I’ve made in my life and assess why I am here, who I am, and where I want to go.  I have to work. Come up with a gameplan to alleviate the internal squeeze of my soul.

I am not sure that I am making any progress.  Well, other than picking up my laptop again and writing some shit out, but my god, when can I get off this merry-go-round?  When can I finally find that peace I’ve been seeking, and just enough money (doesn’t need to be a lot) to satiate my soul’s fucking whining?  When can I have the cool ride of joy and inner satisfaction?

Well, from my research, this might take a few years.  God fucking Dammit.

Nah, it’s okay.  It’s a work in progress I know.  And the progress is me writing and fucking loving (almost) every minute of it and then feeling the doom of my current employment flood me.  It’s the push-pull. The wrestle. The struggle. It’s that spiritual search, right? Well, I can’t quite figure out if I am undergoing some kind of mid-life crisis or my inner, millennial 3 year old is just furious it’s not getting what it wants.  Sometimes I have to even stop myself and ask myself, Do I even fucking know what I want?  And the answer to that is yes and no.

Yes and No.

I can report that the aspirations I previously held have come crumbling down. Or maybe they have just undergone a transformation. I can’t tell for sure. I just know they are different.  As in, what once was the underlying motivation of my aspirations – notoriety, success (money, pleeeaaase!), security – have since morphed into much less sexy aspirations – getting by, hoped impact, quiet contributor.  The only problem I am left with is how to exercise these newly formed aspirations?

So many options, so little pay.

But, you know?  That’s okay. This shit time where I am in conflict with friends, evaluating my career choices, wondering if I should just give it all the mighty middle, is a good thing.  It’s weird to have gratitude for the shit times. Definitely new for me. Although challenging and a wrestle, and certainly caked in fear for when shit does hit the fan, it’s still good.  

Perhaps I am getting closer to the peace I seek.  Perhaps a feeling of steady gratitude underneath the deep frustration and near depression is a sign that something is starting to kick into gear.  Perhaps the seed of hope that all will actually work out in the end that slumbers in my subconscious, is what is growing internally and leading me onward.  And if it’s not? That’s okay too.

All I know is I am definitely in a time of undoing.  Tired of playing the game, wearing the mask, trying to gain the approval of certain people – it’s rearing it’s mother fucking head more and more.  Each day, I schleff off a bit more of the “not me” and expose more and more of the “me.” And it’s fucking hard, y’all (that’s what she said).  

But while it’s hard, I am oddly enjoying it (ahem… she said).  While it hurts and I am quite honestly scared, I am also excited.  Typically it’s these times that really do lead to the next enlightened stage in my life…

So here’s to holding up the lighter to this dark show.  Here’s to enjoying it to the best of my ability and here’s to hoping that whatever catastrophic choices I make in the upcoming months really do align to allowing me to stop giving the fucks that I no longer want to give (or have previously agreed to give – like in my work), and still being able to pay the bills.

No official point to this one, other than this turbulent and floaty season?  Well, it is good. And I’ll keep working on it in my Saturday detention to see what kind of best laid plan I can come up with.


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