precarious writer

abstract numbers

Sat, 9/2/2023

I sometimes think about the inner workings of who I am and the transparency of my truth, the regressions and progressions I've learned to grow within and from, the ever changing ebb and flow of experiences I've had and I'm yet to have. I'm grateful that I have taken in so much by naturally being an observer, but it all feels so overwhelming, especially lately.

I haven't felt inspired in a long while, and perhaps it's because I've been doing the work mentally and haven't found a breakthrough moment to transform it into the physical world yet. Maybe I don't know how to, maybe I'm afraid to, or maybe I'm just lazy. I'm at a stage where I don't feel like the human part of me feels seen, and when it is, it is too much for others to take in. Yet, it is in the vulnerability in which I find myself that I feel the most alive, and maybe that deters people from wanting to stay. Staying to look a little closer. To look a little longer. Dive a little deeper.

I wonder if my work has reached its peak and I'm meant to refocus my energy elsewhere. I find myself not knowing know what to create, build, or pursue next, one of the most frustrating feelings. There is the urge to do something — anything — new, distinguished, preferably grandiose, but it's not about the abstract numbers and however much more you can tack onto your ego, it's about finding what will truly shape you and pursuing it unconditionally.

Take a closer look at the people around you and embrace the humanness that precedes their personality. Maybe you'll find that there is a part of you in others that you haven't given yourself a chance to discover.