This is the world we live in.

When did I fall apart?
When was it exactly that I forgot how to take what I had,
and make the best of it?
When did my brain and heart
decide that I couldn't decide upon anything?

I think it happened when I realized that I was never together. Facades are a powerful thing, even to those that create them. My strength is intangible these days, as I reach out and beckon for its reminder. I find that I can never be satisfied in the things that I do, unless they involve my active decision to be there. For example, this moment. I sit in a coffee shop, put on my headphone (yes, headphone....tragically), write, and listen to Bon Iver repeat back to me the things that I felt, but could never conger quite so well (well done, sir). And yet, the inevitable work load awaits me. Something as undesirable as early awakening for school (which I did today). So, here I have consecutive undesirable things, and an attitude lacking anticipation for what it is I am about to do.

So when did that become ohk?
It never really did in my book; it just became a means of survival.
How tragic is it that, as human beings, we lose focus of dreams, hopes, and faith in the general outcome of any given day because of our own decision to survive in a world that thrives off of attempts at monetary stability? I find it entirely regrettable that I have fallen into this state of mind for so long that I was unable to recognize it. That I was unable to separate survival mode from what it was I really dreamed of, and so I scrambled, furiously, for that which would keep me afloat long enough until I moved forward. This forward motion never really meant positive, just motion, purely for the sake of motion.

This cycle seems unstoppable, yet my body has given up on my brain and fallen behind. My spirit is torn between its loyalty to body parts and organs and when all is said and done, my spirit is just that: torn. I dropped classes, switched jobs, moved, moved, moved, and in that I forgot that I have a dream. In that, I have convinced myself that it is completely unattainable. So I have settled, over and over, and have lost a sense of what it is to breathe on terms that I have set for myself based on that fact that I want that ambition, wholly.

The world is a large place.
There is a horizon of time before me, I "am still so young", but honestly, let's cut the bullshit.

Looking to the older generation, they encourage making the best of our youth, because it slips between our fingertips faster than our eyes can attempt to grasp onto. This comes when this older generation believes that younger, more foolish, generation has lost sight of ambition in terms of squandering time outside of school or whatever other example I am sure that you can think of. However, when there is a feeling of indecisiveness, at least in my case, anyone who can claim even a day of age over mine, is quick to say "you are still so young" and goes on to tell me how much time I have to decide where I need and want to be.

The problem with that is this: I want it now. I want to be doing everything in my power to live a dream that I have had since I can remember. Career wise, I know what I want. But as far as humanity goes, I am choking on my restless spirit as it attempts to skip town and give away its potential. My body is a coffin to my very being, and that is something that I have spent years dedicating time to creating. I have something within me that has always been there: a desire to help people. This is self-evident; I have, in retrospect, done this self-masochistic attempt at helping people in relationships by sacrificing far more than necessary. As far as that goes, it was an act of learning about people and how far I really should push to help. But, on a broader spectrum, I want to change the world. I want to do what I can with my hands, heart, mind, body, soul, and whatever else it takes to set forward a positive motion that I am in full support of.

However, I feel stuck because of my foolish belief that I was on the right path this whole time. I am on a path, I am making mistakes, and I am learning. So, in a sense, I am making progress. The aspect of this that troubles me is that settling, stuck, arbitrary movement habit I had (have?) is no longer acceptable because, naturally, my entire person is trying to piece itself together for the sake of happiness.

Perhaps I was rambling this entire time, left things out, and make no sense, but the words needed to come out somehow. I am taking note of the fact that I have identified so much within myself that I wish to change because I am a growing individual, not just a moving one. My problem now is deciding how to get where I wish, while simultaneously shedding that choking, sputtering, restless spirit that I have become familiar with, and refuse to remain content with.

Nuff said (for now).