I don’t understand politics. I don’t understand people. I’m not good at being politically correct all the time. And yet these statements are not entirely true. I’m a negotiator, an arbitrator. I can see the crashes coming, and the moving of the pieces. But I also fall flat on my face, make sarcastic comments at the wrong time, tip over into upset easily, and stuff my foot down my throat regularly. I screw up, and make up, and rile up, and calm down. The veil is lifted, but I still reach out for it.
I am human… and sometimes I hate it. Some days I just want to crawl into a hole and hibernate through the cold. Life is pain – I’m a masochist, I know that. And hiding never helps, running only makes them chase. Stand up, and just keep walking. And keep your friends and family by your side.
Hope and fear. Love and hate. Been watching the Hunger Games movies lately. Been watching the news, too. These aren’t entirely connected, but they aren’t entirely separate, either. We are one world, one human race. We have to find a way forward before we burn everything to the ground around us. Fear and hate is not the way.
Confidence and insecurity. I’m a fairly confident person. Far more confident than I used to be. But I still cling tightly to my insecurities. I use my past to make excuses, afraid of an uncertain future. I hide behind my wounds, or is that hide my wounds. I hide behind my writing, and yet some things I am afraid to write.
“I am not a leader” and yet I lead, but “I am not The leader.” I organize, but I am not the voice. “I am not a teacher” and yet I teach, and call it tutoring. “I am not a presenter” and yet I stand before them, my body the blackboard, and I speak my truths.
“I am not <______> enough” and yet I am, and always have been.
I stand on the edge of the next precipice, fearing and daring to take the plunge. It is time to spread my wings and fly.
