skyIt will be okay. If I don’t make this one post, it will be okay. If I don’t work on my game today, it will be okay. I have to keep reminding myself. I have to keep telling myself over and over that it’s okay if I slip a little bit, because I can do better next time, and better the time after that, and maybe sometimes I’ll do worse too but, on average, I’ll do okay.

It’s like a workout: I have to do it regularly, routinely, or I’ll stop – but I also have to keep telling myself to breathe, or I’ll stop. Though the friction of the world moving around me when I am still seems, at times, to be almost unbearable, it’s better than trying to force my rusty brain to keep up.

It’s grinding to level up. It’s a journey of a thousand miles starting with a single step. It’s the tortoise that beats the crap out of that flakey-ass hare.

Today I did basically nothing. This is uncommon for me, and I generally try to keep it so, but I’ve been losing ground every day this week, becoming more and more tired, getting my work done by narrower and narrower margins, staying up later and later, until finally, today, I just had to sleep. And sleep. And sleep. And I don’t know if this is the right approach or the healthy approach but it will be okay. I’ll do better. I don’t know what to write about so I’m telling myself it will be okay. I’ll figure out something better. It doesn’t all have to happen now. I have time.

I’ve learned through experience that I will not survive if I cannot accept the mediocrity of my genius, the fickleness of my talent, and the readiness of my failures. I must take it all. I must see the beauty around me and work it into my imagination to create, but see the ugliness as well, and see the blood which welds them together. I must see my strengths and my failings, and see the angle by which they share the same face. I see the light, and its warmth, and the darkness, with its cool, and I need them both, sometimes.

I’m sorry if you wanted something more from me, or something different. Maybe later I’ll have something else, but this is what is in me now. Is it laziness? Is it honesty? Is it art? Who cares?

I feel better for having written it. I can only hope you feel better for having read it.

  1. Tertia said:

    I do. I like it when you tell the truth. I like that you’re not the same every day. Not just because it makes me feel less alone in my fluctuations, but because it is a genuine pleasure to witness your process.

    • Yeah, some days it’s the choice between writing something weird and venty and crazy and just not writing anything at all, and I think it’s better for everyone if I just put out there what I got. It’s up to the reader to decide whether it’s a thing for them, and realistically not everything that I write is going to be a thing for everyone.

  2. Of course it’s okay! My dad used to calm me down when I’d panic about small things that seemed huge, by playing the “what’s the worst that can happen?” game…

    “What’s the worst that can happen if you’re late for school?”
    “I’ll have to get a late slip.”
    “What’s the worst that can happen if you get a late slip?”
    “If I get three in a row I’ll get in-school suspension.”
    “What’s the worst that can happen if you get in-school suspension?”
    “If I get it too many times I can get expelled…”

    …Okay so this is a bad example of when my Dad was trying to make me feel better for him making me late for school, haha. But sometimes it works! :)

    • Yup, that’s one of the first places I go usually. In this case, what I worry about is that I’ll develop bad habits and start not getting anything done regularly. I may have to write on this in more depth as a followup sometime, but yeah, I worry that if I let myself not do something one day, I’ll talk myself into not doing it on the next, and so forth.

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