waiting

9/13/2015 – Day Twenty – Five.

I have a problem with follow through. I get excited over a variety of different ideas and then because of my own laziness, I become dissatisfied with finishing. I hated school, so I became terrible at it. I hated my peers, so I avoid them every chance I get. I start things with intentions of being creative and watch things fall through the cracks of my life.

There is nothing wrong in having ideas. The sad reality of executing them is where the problems lie.  I always feel like I am on the verge of the next big idea. I write about it, I talk about it, obsessed over it and before long, I grow tired of it. Tired to the point of no return. Its gotten to the point that I don’t think people believe in my ideas anymore. I’ve talked about things, overhyped ideas and before long I just stop talking about it. There’s something inside that always stops me and then I completely stop the whole process. I never finish what I start. I have blogs that have been forgotten. I have books that have been read but never finished. A million things I’ve started and slowly haven’t been finish for what ever emotional reason. I find myself trying to find distractions, instead of finishing what I started.

All these distractions become clutter in my life. Objects, places and things that I just want to get rid of. I watch time go through the hour glass, and know at any moment all of this could be over. I don’t have much time anymore. Everyone around me is finding their place in life, and I am still stuck here with my ideas. I am still stuck trying to figure out what the hell I really want. I made this mistake in thinking that I had all this time. This belief that I would be young forever and eventually everything would fall in to place. No one tells you how hard everything really is once you get older. Maybe I should stop being distracted and start fucking doing something with my life. Maybe instead of keeping all these ideas, I should start doing something about it.

Who knows.

I’ll just wait for the next distraction.

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?M = To Change Sh*t.

I think about change as often as the next person. Change of scenery, change of pace, change of environment, and all that jazz. We’re all ready for that next step, on that next level hustle, but seldom do we ever take that chance. All it takes is a little bit of courage to take that chance to make that change. Sounds easy right? But why are we so afraid of doing everything we set out to do? I find myself making up excuses about why I can’t change, instead of just fucking changing. I can change right? I can do whatever, I set myself out to do. Because the world is my fucking oyster.

Of course I like the idea of change. This idea of change that films and coming of age stories tell you happen. But what about the rest of us that have responsibilities? Change can happen, after you pay off debts and start being positive. Change can happen with a change of attitude and believing in yourself. Because all it takes is a great attitude to turn everything around. Sometimes you’re burned out on positivity that it feels better to bring back that good old haunting feeling. This dark cloud that follows you everywhere changing all these new beginnings right to that old familiar feeling. Even new experiences can burn you out. Even things you wanted to be better for you, put a damper on your expectations. The things we wished for ourselves have a funny way of not being what we want them to be. We take jobs to pay the bills and eventually those jobs become our life. We in turn start to hate these jobs because of the way they make us feel. I hated every single one of my jobs and the reason being I was afraid of change. Afraid of going out on a limb because that’s where the fruit is.

You know you’re burned out from office jobs when every job that requires an 8 to 5, you hate after a week. After 10 plus years of the same job, all programs start looking the same: Foresite, AS400, JD Edwards, etc. Each one is the efficient way to handle business. These programs are all “The way of the future”, and every other similar saying. Basically they are all the same fucking program, but you are too polite to say otherwise. All the same boring ass programs that you’ve been programed to believe are “The way of the future”. You start your morning going through the motions of work, when really you are miles away from your boring ass responsibilities. I can’t even begin to tell you how many programs I’ve worked with that are considered to the new approach to everything. When in reality they waste more paper and do the same functions as all the other programs. What does it matter anyway, I am making money. I have a job and should be grateful for my chances. Its not that I am ungrateful, I am grateful. Its that knowingness in my gut that I should be doing something else. Something better than pushing paper and smiling, when I feel like screaming and lighting everything on fire. But I am a sucker in the belief that “Good things, come to those who wait”, so waiting is what I do.

Thats where I have it wrong. This waiting for the good things to happen. Waiting on good things that everyone else snatches up, and I get upset about. Because the grass is always greener on the other side. Who ever said “Good things come to those who wait”, was a sucker. A sucker in all the sense of the words. Sure good things come to those who wait, but to the people who actually go out and do shit, better amazing things happen too. I guess after everything I was just used to this fallback, that if everything went wrong I had my fallback job. I was good at listening to directions and having a follow through. I was good at doing my job and handling everyone else’s responsibilities. I was good at taking the fall when everyone else took the praise. Thats what makes me such a great assistant, I was good at cleaning up the messes that nobody else wanted to do. Because waiting for things to happen was my escape, this belief that things were going to get better once people took a look at me.

The last job I had I just didn’t have the passion for. Sure it’s easy to fake passion, I was a master of it. I thrive on challenges and pushing myself, but this time I just couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t care about a fallback. I didn’t care about the outcomes of my mistakes. I didn’t care if everything fell apart and I was the cause of it. I was miserable and burned out on my tired excuses of “Good things, happen to those who wait”. You reach that point in your life where you have to ask yourself “What’s more important, your pride or a paycheck?”. Bills will eventually be paid. Debt continuously will always take control of your life but sometimes you have to do something great. When every time you look at the screen and you want something greater you do everything in your power to be great. Sometimes you are better than your job. Sometimes you are better than cleaning up other peoples mistakes. More importantly you’re better than everyone’s expectations of you and one day all that hustling pays off. Life its too great to be sitting in a cubicle from 8am to 5pm just waiting and wishing for things to happen. We are all going to struggle from time to time but in the end we come out victorious.

For every program I worked on there was always a command to change your options. The last job I worked at was “?M”, to modify what you save on the screen. The reality was I saw it as “?M”= To change shit. Thats what I’m going to do, “?M” to change shit in my life. To be greater, to be better, and everything else will fall into place.

I’m about to see a million things
I thought I’d never see before and I
I’m about to do all of the things
I’ve dreamed of and
I don’t even miss you at all

6/29/2014

Still.

My mind moves a mile a minute. Non-stop thoughts. Thinking of you, thinking of me, thinking of us and everything that falls in-between. I watch all this energy harness in every single one of my fingertips. I can’t stop this shaking, this aching feeling. Something is going to happen, something is about to blow. I’d rather everything blow up in my face, then have nothing happen at all. Still I stay here, lying still, waiting.

I hear the wind muffle the sounds of my breathing. This pain, this ache, this energy that keeps me awake at night. If only there was a reason for all this mess. If only there was a reason for feeling this way. These thoughts are never ending. Maybe in the end, this is all my fault. I am the reason for this source of undoing. Because it was always me that waited too long to say anything. It was always me that spoke up at all the wrong times. I could replay every single conversation, word for word, and no matter what happens, I’m still here. I’m still here, lying still, waiting.

When did I get to this point? How can I make it stop? The more I sit here the more I wonder why I couldn’t just control myself. Control my actions and my reactions. Say exactly how I feel at exactly the right time. I know I am only human, and being human means making mistakes. Was this all just one big mistake? Was this all just my fault in believing the unobtainable could be obtainable? My hands shake and my breathing gets heavy, still I stay here, lying still, waiting.

What use is waiting if I never get what I want. Whats the use of being good when everything we want is so bad? Whats the point of all hopelessness, if no one ever has the hope in believing in us? I wish I had all the answers. I wish I knew that one day everything I feel would be worth it. That in the end, I would get everything I wanted. But I won’t. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have waiting so long for nothing. Because all waiting ever did was cause me so much pain. This ache in my chest, this pain in my heart and this feeling I could never shake off. I would have waited forever if it meant I could have everything I wanted. I could have you, me, and us. I could keep pretending that everything is my fault, that I missed my mark, but the past is still the past. The longer you wait the more you realize nothing is worth waiting for. You have time to realize that everything you wanted could be yours in a heartbeat. But I can’t help but keep waiting, lying here, still.

Still, I will stay.

11/15/2013

My dress it hangs there.

my-dress-hangs-there

Life has a funny way of imitating art. Which is why I find myself loving so many photographs, paintings, and writings of everything. Art has a way of captivating you deep down into your soul. Pulling something out of you that at times you forget you still had. I think of how much my life has changed and yet, I find myself so in touch with the past. How things from our present find ways to remind us of things from years prior.

Its when I think of the past that it reminds of me of the dress. The last dress I purchased that held so much promise of color and new beginnings. How the colors so different found a way to compliment each other. I think of the last moments I wore that dress, and how after so many years the image of that dress never seems to escape me. It continues to remind me of a halfway point. The point between here and there, never fully grasping the concept of being home. Home was where I was suppose to want to be, but being in between here and there I never understood. It took a while to get myself to pick up the dress and find it a home. Because keeping it stationary meant that it would last forever in that in-between places. That seeing it day after day and how it would just hang there for the world to see. Hang there for me to one day come to conclusion that this was home again. It was my own fear of returning home and counting my losses. My own fear of seeing my life for what it was, and not some in-between place journey but coming home to pick at my scabs and start over. The dress it just hung there, waiting, patiently to be put away.

It’s been months since I’ve put the dress away. Months since I’ve worn and seen the dress. Still the image of the dress hanging between rooms, doesn’t seem to escape me. It sits waiting patiently to be put away. I think of it as the last of the decades of leaving. The last escape of this godforsaken town. But still even months after it’s been put away, I can still see it. I see the blue, green, and navy. I see the image of the dress just swaying back and forth with the life surrounding it. I see how much I loved that dress when I purchased it, I see how I couldn’t wait to never see it again.

Art has a funny way of imitating life. I can sit and stare at a painting of a dress hanging between the chaos of New York, and still think of that dress. How the dress just hung in-between here and there. How much I wished for the dress to be leaving to far off distant places and instead watched it be buried to the back of the closet. Still that image beckons to me, haunts me. I watch the life of the dress disappear into the dark mysteries of life. Waiting, patiently for the day to reappear. Waiting for the day to be brought back to life. I just can’t bring myself to wear that dress but its memory still haunts my mind from time to time. On the days when I feel like I am in-between places. I’ll never know where I am going but I know eventually I will leave this place and with me that dress will join me. Maybe soon.

But still it waits.

Patiently.

4/14/2012

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