The memory of the thought of my new skin still tickles my
third eye vision. The peek through of fog and haze that represented the days
between me and what I wanted me to be. Like peering into stones of amber that
held inside the existence of that place where I fit, but you had to look deep
inside to see it. These distant days held a conception of the faces and spaces I
yearned to call home. To spend my laboring in ways that would bring smiles to
all involved, with people who care enough to share in moments approaching.
Knowing that I belong is what was I longed for. Instead of stuck in a muck fueled by fake emotions and forced sensations, blatantly created by
self-indulgence. Wallowing in an existence constructed by looking backwards to
see what my future should look like.
What sticks with me is the very tick when I realized my
compass had faltered. That my progression didn’t have to result in stepping backwards
as well. I’ll admit, my oppression of change would ebb and flow in pace, while
my desire for rejuvenation would stutter in fits. Though I never lost the
vision to shed dead weight skin and enjoy a lighter existence.
Countless days aggregated as I stumbled through daily plays
that served my ego. Dead skin is hard to shed when you beat back the means of its
unattachment. I was grasping to the past, like dirt clenched in my vise like
mitts. As though carrying the soil of my former ground could somehow be helpful
in my new surroundings. Meanwhile those who exploit and operate solely for
personal gain still seemed to fill my main stay vision, as I reciprocated their
games and bought into the notion that this comedy suited me. Just below the
surface the dream like mission still resonated away, fueling a torch that kept
the futures direction lit. As I waxed and waned through phases of brief self-indulgence,
a new beginning flickered in the distance.
Decisions laced with mistakes caused the landscape to become re-framed. When hopes for continued education and livelihood risked elimination,
my everyday preferences shifted, as my angles of vision became more acute. I
followed the spiral that was drawn to keep focus on movement and illustrate that
changes are only a split decision away. I severed ties with those who sought to
conspire and scheme while putting self-indulgences aside. Effortlessly the gifts
I’d let go unused regained their daily repetitions.
New faces started to grace my every day. They operated with
transparency and shed warmth and respect to those in their presence. One character
in particular became a partner in this act. Her lack of façade and fakeness defining
the quality of her nature. We’d talk and we’d toast and we’d dine on glorious
meals. We’d discuss and attract all the wonderful moments we’d plan to feel, as the crave of a past slipped further and further from awareness.
A new skin had formed, though it was tight and offered
moments of discomfort, inches by inches it began to fill in. The festered folds
that held the pain and inconvenience of the past had finally been shed. I’ve
found myself in a space where I create my own surroundings. I am now and the
future. I stand at the very vantage point I’d gazed upon so many days before. Here
the past is finally seen solely in the rearview. While the present I occupy is
brimming with moments and emotions I've longed for. Now the faces in these spaces
see me. Where I share a life with another with great joy and well-being. Where work is not a chore but an engagement, like
a dance floor filled with like-minded beings. Where the future holds the
moments I live for, and the past is merely memories that fuel me forward.
