When what to write becomes a restless horde…preying on you mind’s fingers, noisily. What can you do? Its almost a certain eventuality that nothing gets written. I sit here, afraid, staring at the computer screen wondering how this unease will quell. You see I am trying to make sense of this significant ability that i am convinced I possess.
No, this isn’t one of those my periodic pieces when i ramble on about self doubt and being judged for what I write. This is about the act itself. I know I CAN write, it is just a question of my passion. I know you regard my writing, it is just a question of HOW i can win you over. But the riot in my mind is another dimension in my constant battle for self actualization. An obstacle of greed if I might say; wanting to say too much at the same time, tell 9 stories at the same time with the same mouth. I myself have become the riot.
I try to coach my mind’s tongue, to teach it not to birth another or create forums, I know myself, the egos in me are many, none will back down so there lies the conundrum Hopefully I have shed a little light on this flimsy conflict of mine and have probably put you through the small task of reading it.
What has been the benefit? Be honest. Do I come across as convincing or I simply have played around with words long enough for you to spot the BS in all of this…be gentle, I merely present a narrative, my narrative. BS or no BS its my story and I’m sticking to it.
And yes, I did hang out with Shawn Carter in my dream.
There used to be a time when I by default disliked every person older than me by 10 years or more. I automatically developed a sense of loathing and distrust for adults who I was obliged to spend more than 5 hours of my day with, yes, it might have stemmed from some undiscovered childhood trauma or experience but that was the way I found myself for a while until the inconvenience became the inevitable. Back then it was all about teachers, nannies and older relations, now its more about Bosses and work colleagues.
I have to say getting accustomed to the whole regime hasn’t been easy but I have adjusted well because I now find the presence of older people reassuring. I gain so much from their experience with life and I appreciate the way they present things. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older myself, I really don’t know. Life is really one short jaunt across a spectacular terrain and I’ve come to see that our unique lives that represent individual pieces of art works would be mundane and inexplicably uninspiring without the touches of the older experienced hands to guide you.
Is it the parent or the Boss? The sometimes overbearing supervisor or the Perfectionist mentor? It could possibly be the imagined voice bringing the words of a great author to life. You never know how these weathered minds can reach us. The fact is they simply do and the sooner we realize it the better for us.
Maybe I’m wrong or maybe I’m a bit wiser, I’ll let you make up your own opinion about what I’m saying. I’m still not completely comfortable around old folks but I’m attentive. Most of the time my thought process almost comes to a halt when I’m around my Boss, probably because I’d rather be paying attention because when I’m by myself, I breakdown key aspects of the briefing and analyse, its like a re-education for me; one which I enjoy.
I guess it all stems from my constant desire to help people learn new things and become more enlightened. Grown ups I fear don’t realize what immense assets they are, a lot of them today have embraced a form of submission and acceptance that worries me, yet they live lives that speak of so much potential you wonder why they seem to communicate such submissiveness. I suspect it comes with a bigger sense of responsibility, one which I am still walking my way towards; getting married, having kids, running a business, etc.
Is that what really happens?
Who’s the grown up you’ve learned the most from apart from your parents?