Where wild minds come to rest
For a couple months in between late December and Febuary, i sucessfully stopped daydreaming. It was amazing - i was becoming passionate about my writing and growing monumentally as a person. In a matter of weeks, I could feel the pull of inspiration and, for once in three years, I actually LISTENED to music, instead of merely pacing and dreaming. Finally, my life was enriched.
When I look back at that time, I remember a feeling of vicious hope and liberation. In short, I was truly happy. Something, I must admit, has been a rare commodidy in my life for the past couple years. But, in the midst of this happiness, I relapsed. I cannot comprehend my reasoning. I remember telling myself, even pleading with myself, to stop. And of course, i told myself: "oh ill only do it occasionally, it won't change my life to do it once in a while, will it?"
It's holding me back; it is neither talent, nor gift, nor a positive birthright. It is merely a condition which i have encouraged. Which - no matter what excuses we make - has been brought on by ourselves.
Our actions beget consequences and our consequences demand action.
I don't know about you, but I will never stop fighting, I will never except this condition as a permentant resident in my life.
To paraphrase a famous songwriter: I will not patiently burn waiting to be saved