Posts Tagged ‘Muse’

It’s late. I’m tired. I’m irritated. I’m dirty. I stink. And for the first time in a long time, I’m writing this completely sober. At this point I haven’t titled this post because I’m not sure where it’s headed. I feel like the words will come from within and inspire textual greatness through my fingertips, at which point the title will make itself apparent.

A very wise soul once told me that your life journey will lead you exactly where you’re supposed to be, even if it isn’t what you expected or wanted from the start. I’m not referring to fate or destiny…I’m not even sure what I’d call it. But I believe everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it’s made apparent why something has happened at that exact moment, and sometimes you don’t realize the who, what, when, where or why until years and years later, if at all. There is a rhyme and reason to everything, even if it doesn’t always seem like it. Even when your vision’s as blurred with bullshit as is humanly possible, there is still a clearing at the end. I’m not sure if I’ve reached that clarity yet, but recently I feel like I’m being guided toward a direction that might lead to it.

For the past 7 years or so I had absolutely no doubt that my place in life was to become the world’s greatest defense attorney. I can’t tell you why, but I’ve always known that it was my ‘calling’ or whateverthefuck you want to call it. I’d refer to it as my Personal Legend. Fast forward to today, I’m at the point of studying for and taking the LSAT to begin my journey chasing Johnny Cochran’s achieved career as a my hero, and possibly the most renowned defense attorney today. But recently, for the first time since I thought I found my place in life, I’ve started questioning whether or not it’s really what I’m supposed to do. It isn’t a matter of what I want, because I most definitely still want to be a defense attorney, but my Personal Legend might be something even greater. I’m not one to use signs to guide me, my map is a far more advanced GPS system energized and controlled by a burning inner passion that is stronger and more true than any omen or sign can account for. It is more perfectly calculated than any technology available today. And it’s got more drive than any motivational speaker or self-help book can muster up. It’s free. It’s always dead-on. And it comes from a place within that cannot be seen, mapped, analyzed or explained through the most developed diction. It is the center point from which the most unchained anger arises from, and is the emotional drive that allows sympathy, compassion and sadness to put others as priority over yourself. If you’ve ever heard a child abuse or rape story, you have an understanding to some extent. If you’ve ever witnessed someone give their life for another, you have an understanding to some extent. This is the guide I follow. Not a higher being or book, not a religion or cult, not a speaker who ‘knows better than I do,’ or a philosophy from some person who lived hundreds of years ago in a lifetime exponentially different than the one I live today. Passion. I follow passion. Whether it makes me look like a vagina of a man, or an extreme asshole, I’ll take either as I’m allowing my passion to shape me, and vice versa. I’ve posted about passion before but in a different context. This passion I’m referring to is what’s inspired me to sit here and spew my inner drive through my fingertips.

Over the past month, my life’s been turned upside down. And I don’t mean that in some sort of a ‘boohoohoo my life sucks’ kind of way. I mean that my normalcy and routine have changed entirely, and it has thrown me of. I’m accustomed to taking the shit life throws at me and turning it around into a positive. In fact, I thrive on it. When something’s off it becomes a challenge to fix, and I get off on challenges. If life were easy and without challenge, I’d be a boring motherfucker. So would you. The past month has been a different sort of challenge, though. I’ve found this inner passion that burns so much more deep than anything else I’ve ever felt before. I don’t know when it started or why, I just know that it’s made me more vocal (if you can believe that. I’m an obnoxious loudmouth as it were), more angry, more sad, more inspired, more sympathetic and more passionate than I’ve ever been. I can’t take little situations and handle them as I normally would. I’m tenfold more impacted by every little thing that happens, for better or worse. For example, I hate one of my bosses. He’s the epitome of worthless. The dude’s overweight, miserable as fuck, and thinks his money buys him a way out of having to be a decent human being. Imagine the most worthless person you can. Now multiply that times 5,000. That’s my boss. Anyway, there was an issue with making up time off, and I didn’t feel it was valid. Normally, I’d just take it like a bitch and make up hours. But this time was different. I snapped. I told them what I thought, and I didn’t do it pleasantly or in a pleasant tone at all. At first I was nervous, since they could have fired me and I’d have no way to pay for the life I’ve created for myself. But after I voiced my thoughts, my passion took over and I couldn’t control it or keep it in. So again, I snapped. And it felt fucking fantastic. I still have my job. I think that was about the time I realized that my this overwhelming passion wasn’t such a bad thing. It was my way to validate feeling…anything, something, everything. Before, I’ve hidden away those feelings for a multitude of reasons. But today, if I feel it, you’re going to know it.

I’m not entirely sure where I was going with that. Dammit. I grabbed a drink halfway through this, so I’m no longer writing this sober. Okay, passion. Passion. Last week I posted about K. I thought I was done with her. I’m not. And I don’t know why. She’s still just as frustrating if not more so. I pretty much fucking hate her. But one thing I’ve learned about my journey toward my Personal Legend is that, again, everything happens for a reason. I didn’t try to figure out why I had met her or what part in my life she’d play. But recently it’s become apparent that I’ve gained a lot more from her than just a pretty face to stare at when I’m with her. I’m all about aesthetics, and I have a staring problem. But what I’ve gained is a new understanding of where my journey’s taking me. I may or may not still end up going to law school. Had I not planned on it in the first place, I wouldn’t be here, with this new found realization that might change my life path entirely. Meeting K was another of life’s deflections. I was on my path and focused…and she fucked that up. I was angry at first, but I’ve got a new understanding that allows for more clarity. She inspires me to be…me. She’s impossible to get through to. And no matter how open I am or how much of me I put into her, I get nothing back. Normally this would make me fucking irate. And it did. Until I realized that when I’m with her I’m basically venting my soul and its makings. I’m talking to something that says little back with little or no reaction. Ultimately, she’s become a muse. A very frustrating, impossible muse. But one that allows me to voice whatever’s burning inside me. Instead of deciding to close myself off as I normally would after opening myself up and having it rejected, it’s made me see me for me. I understand that sounds lame as shit, but there’s no other way to put it. I’m me, and that’s never going to change. Not for anyone or anything. And I love that. If I hadn’t met her, I would probably still be focused on law school. As it sits now, that’s up in the air. And all I really want to do is write.

I’ve always liked writing. No, no. I’ve always loved it. Words turn me on, mentally and sexually. Okay, maybe not sexually. Jk, they do. In all seriousness, I am absolutely intrigued and infatuated by a mess of letters transformed into a beautiful collaboration of thoughts. Language and articulation are more sexy to me than a 5’8″ blonde with long legs and a defined structure and face. I love them. …Words, and the blonde. All distraction aside, I have to write. I don’t just want to, I HAVE to. Just writing that right now gave me a hardon and a headache at the same time. Pretty sure the headache is from the 239,627,634,679,023,449 things in my head that need to be sprawled onto paper. Even if I’m not a celebrity or anyone particularly important. I’m not a public figure. I don’t have a bunch of tragic stories that I need to share. I’m not a rape victim or the product of a dysfunctional family. I lead a pretty normal life. But what’s in my head is anything but normal, and it needs a release. Writing is that release. Even if it doesn’t help or inspire a single person, it’s what I’m here to do. I know this, because the aforementioned passion that burns in the very depths of my soul moves me to do so. It isn’t just an inspiration or motivator, it’s a movement that is constantly in action. It’s time to stop neglecting it and let it be free.

A Discourse With My Soul.