I wrestle with not wanting to be noticed, yet wanting to effect change. Sometimes I relish speaking my mind to brick walls simply because the act alone is quite zealous for me. It’s as if by saying thoughts, thoughts come into being. I said it. Bam. It is. Like sifting though all the particles of mind to pick out the bad and distill the real.
It’s interesting how the world is manipulated. The only way the world can be good is if it can rise up in spite of itself. It’s not as if pain is pleasure, but the two are twined for now. We maneuver through the maze, trying not to step on each other. A dance of sorts, but a wearying one.
I’ll be glad to be older, the young years can be full of trouble and frailty. My only goal is to find goodness now so that it will stay with me when my roots set. I can feel myself turning 30, though it’s still a good 5 years away. Can’t say I ever lived the teenage dream, but then I can’t say one ever existed.