A place for my ramblings. A place to spew rants and thoughts and feelings and emotional spirals.
Formatted for you wattpad lovers.
Perhaps I reach you. Maybe I don't.
Who knows? Maybe you will do more than just read it. None of this matters.
...
I do my best to keep the best. The best of me. I try to keep doing so. From the heart? Or from the ego? Is it very different really? I over analyze things in life that nobody even thinks twice about. Sure at any given time, they might think about it, but not the way I do. What is it about this brain that makes riddles out of spoken words? What is it that makes me put so much space up for rent in my head when I am the one who is paying for it. Am I like you? My ego tells me no. My heart tells me everything else while my brain simply says that my heart is wrong. That its overreacting. That the feelings are mistaken. I wonder, do I need something? No. Do I want something? Not really. Is there any other way? Maybe. My life isn't bad. I have all the things I need. I have all I ever thought I wanted. I ever really thought I deserved and yet I feel like I do very little to keep it. Maybe what I do is more than enough. But then I think still... Maybe I'm lying to myself. Am I though? Do I do enough? If I am, it's barely even. Tonight I question wether or not I am. AND WHAT IF I AM DOING WHAT I NEED? Well the answer is that it's not much for the future. The future. Do you think about it as much as I do? I am sure you will tell me. Or not. Are you getting the theme for tonight's reading? This life is a puzzle. An enigma. A big fucking game of Jenga. Take a block and move it up until it all crashes down. Don't be the one to knock it over. And that is what life is like, isn't it? Move up. Sometimes as I drop that block on top, I'm relieved that it doesn't topple over. What am I doing today that paves the road to happiness tomorrow? On this vehicle of ecstasy. On this spinning rock of self discovery. Do I still have the gas? A friend of mine died very recently. He started over in his mid forties. He opened his own tattoo shop. He started planning. Taking over the property his shop was on and eventually buying up the corner. He was smart. He was wise.
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He invested in his life. Do I do that? He made sure that when he passed that his house was payed for. That his shop was payed for. That there was a sustainable income that would support his family. That everything would be taken care of so that he could rest in peace. Greg Alexander was a great man. More of the man I want to be than I feel like I could ever be. He was adaptable. He wasn't stuck with a mind that the tattoo business wasn't going to be his source of income. He opened an artist colony. Renting out different artists studios and a gallery to sell their work. He opened a coffee shop with his own brands of coffee. He was a smart man. His wife Susan was a dynamite team mate. They were a dynamic duo. And in the end, he enjoyed the spoils of hard work and the teenage lives of their children. I never had that. I never had a lady I wanted to spend a teaming life like I do now. And what am I doing with that? Am I doing enough? Am I? Not like Greg. Am I ready to leap? Am I ready to jump freely into a swan dive? Jump so effortlessly into a world of harder work and build something? Start a new? A new what?. Things in my life need more motivated response. I feel like I'm lacking a whole lot in comparison to my father figure here. I am just a few years younger than he was when he moved to Tucson and started a whole new direction. A whole new foundation. A brand new beginning. I know that in my heart, something needs to get pushed and my ego just won't allow it. Not now. Smaller moves. Maybe. Greg was a great man. He really was. WA
