I tried that thing you do, that thing you love, your passion, but that’s not me. If I can be true, I can only do what I do, how I was made to. I find I try to shine a light at least I hope it’s not a blot or a dark spot so I write a lot and hope that all the shots I take day after day can reach some poor soul out there breathing this same air. That there is at least one other soul, me, who cares enough to send a word and share in the pain and other things that try to take you away from the sunshine we have every day. But sometimes it’s hard to play when your mind settles into dark signs, and time becomes a weight. Everything runs late and you’re floating in outer space with no way to stay in the light that settles scrambled plots of cerebral cells. Endless pain shuttles formal lies into a place where we organize, categorize and force a socialized sense of separation.
You can only be you and that is good. You should open up your eyes if you could, but please hear me, you are good, I would like to introduce some facts of your system, more intricate than any man-made gift we play with. Screens and things we hold in the palms of our hands. Hours weeks years for that one thing that can’t hold a candle to the intricacies in your name. Alone you stand with more value than a hundred billion pinnacles of light. Every time you breathe, a reaction sets bright blood on endless journeys to deliver life.
Million dollar microscopes probe down into minuscule miracles. One after another, breakthroughs make the news and infuse the world with shock and awe and wonder at the greatness we all contain. But then we bow down at the throne of stereotypes and pop star hype, personal mutilation takes the place of truth and you end up down beneath, under subheadings of the potential you. This counterfeit sees you in a mirror dimly, like smoke out of a chimney you only reference where you came from as you dissipate into the system that surrounds you, controls you, consumes you. With painted faces we whitewash our house of cards with trending colors of paint, posh interior decor, rates so high we justify buying spaces outside the economics of the situation. We outspend and trend down into debt all the while wildly whisking away any sense of self-esteem.
That face you see like smoke in the mirror has been replaced with self hate…
We can only be ourselves, not someone else. When we strive to be something others expect us to be we slowly destroy ourselves. Each one of us is an amazing specimen far more valuable and intricate than anything one man can completely understand. Do not fall prey to the desire to be anything other than you. Because you are amazing.