In high school Venn diagrams were the only thing that made sense to me. Algebra? Not so much. ax² + bx + c = I am a big fat idiot.
My old life was drab. Get up. Go to work. Complain about work. Gossip about co-workers. Go home. Try not to think about work. Go to sleep. Wake up depressed about having to go to work. Drab, but predictable. Stable. Profitable. Like that thick ugly coffee cup from that greasy spoon in Truckee--you detest it, but can't make yourself throw it away. In its own way, my old life worked.
This new life? I just don't know. It's a beautiful thin glass that I don't know yet how to use. Is it for wine? Water? Milk? Vomit? As someone who has always been driven by fear I have to figure out which fright pushes me the furthest: the fear of not realizing my dream, or the fear of losing my house, my sense of security, my sense of the self I have been so far as an adult. Because Langston Hughes wrote about what happens to a dream deferred, but there are no words really for what happens to a dream confronted.
Does it also sag like a heavy load? Or does it explode?
You want more of my discomfort? Okay then, here you go: I was featured on Indie Bloggers today. If you don't yet know about Indie Bloggers, well, you do now. Go. Subscribe.And a special thank you to Maggie for letting me in on it via her post--Congrats to both Maggie and Pare for also being published there.
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