I realize this is just...the other side of the game that we call "real life." One of those unsunny, topsy-turvy, sideways leaning days that got me just off balance enough to slip into some bullshit. The bullshit being people. People being the missiles seeking the heat of my well-being. My well-being, being something not always fully protected.
Any good story needs an antagonist. The friend that secretly gloats over your misfortune (like eye don't see). The dude that is supposedly madly in love with you, but can tick off a laundry list of why he can't leave his wife "just yet." (as if i am not the alpha string). Or the other one that wants to come back and reap the benefits after all the work has been done (nah mufucka, he and I built this). The client that believes you're a robot put here solely to do his bidding (one day you will bow). They all serve their purpose; make us either stronger or weaker depending on the universal plotline.
In the end though, they're all just bit players. I be the main character here, self-scripted as the captain of this particular soul. Master of my fate; slave to my will. To be free.
My story is to be an epic one. And so I choose from time to time to twist the plot and step into the fray. Play the role of lesser human; so sad/madattheworld and feeling all ineffective when pitted against fate. It's a dream within my lucid one; something to distract me when the pursuance of purpose becomes too much. Only the knowing tethers me to waking life.
I always felt that this part of life would be the dickens. Fuck the ever-increasing gray hairs and random things sagging, I am enamoured with - clarity and wisdom in abundance. Even the worst is not as bad as it seemed when I knew very little of my self. These days I, agile and wily; sidestepping and precognitive, sensing the next move counter to my revolution. Nowadays, I easily intake blessed breath and remembrance...
Of just what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing.
I'm supposed to be grinding. I'm supposed to be hustling. I'm supposed to be building personal wealth through the building of character. I'm supposed to be flipping the script; forcing these lame ass drones to re-evaluate their ill-built concepts. I'm supposed to be an example. I'm supposed to talk some shit; be on some new shit; all while fully aware of the fact that I am the shit.
This be that nu type of grown. Not so much self-assurance as it is full-on megalomania. It's the only way the ubermensch knows how to feel; sensing within self all.that.damn.power. To move and shape and transform in a boundaryless sort of way. It makes life one eagerly lived. Almost anxious to see what new thing one can be upon...
And always ready to put in work.
Posted by Lisa at May 4, 2007 07:08 PM