(no subject)
So much to say but nothing is said.
I've been writing a lot on my personal notepads while I'm at work. Since all I can do is read and/or write for the 8 hours I'm on the phone there, I've tried to make productive use of the time. I've trained myself back to my old speed reading levels, so I'm finishing one to one-and-a-half books per shift while also doing the daily newspaper crossword and writing assorted thoughts on my pads. The books I've been reading have helped to spur some thoughts along in my head. Where I thought I'd hit a stagnant valley in my mind I find that I was only restraining myself like a yoke on oxen.
I've held a lot of misdirected rage for a long period of time. At present I can honestly say that I have never felt calmer or more at peace with who it is that I am beneath all exteriors and veneers. I have come to terms with myself and what I have become and the things that I have done to reach this point. Not necessarily proud of the ways of which I have shat upon my potential, but I am satisfied that I have done what I thought was correct at the time. "Do the best we can with what we have," John Paul Jones once said, referring to a naval battle. I can only adhere to that in my own situation, going forth with what I have now.
"It's a hard row to hoe," as my grandmother would say, being 28 (and starring down the barrel of 29) and single and working in a nothing job and finding yourself floundering in everything you do. "Where does one go from here," I ask myself daily. I once held such promise. I was headed somewhere. How did I get myself mired in this... what turn did I take into this rut?
The whys and what ifs are a pointless exercise, I know, but that does not prevent me from engaging in them in moments of quiet. IT is too easy to fall prey to that habit, wondering how things might have been. As it is, I am alive. I take that for what it is worth and move on.
I've been writing a lot on my personal notepads while I'm at work. Since all I can do is read and/or write for the 8 hours I'm on the phone there, I've tried to make productive use of the time. I've trained myself back to my old speed reading levels, so I'm finishing one to one-and-a-half books per shift while also doing the daily newspaper crossword and writing assorted thoughts on my pads. The books I've been reading have helped to spur some thoughts along in my head. Where I thought I'd hit a stagnant valley in my mind I find that I was only restraining myself like a yoke on oxen.
I've held a lot of misdirected rage for a long period of time. At present I can honestly say that I have never felt calmer or more at peace with who it is that I am beneath all exteriors and veneers. I have come to terms with myself and what I have become and the things that I have done to reach this point. Not necessarily proud of the ways of which I have shat upon my potential, but I am satisfied that I have done what I thought was correct at the time. "Do the best we can with what we have," John Paul Jones once said, referring to a naval battle. I can only adhere to that in my own situation, going forth with what I have now.
"It's a hard row to hoe," as my grandmother would say, being 28 (and starring down the barrel of 29) and single and working in a nothing job and finding yourself floundering in everything you do. "Where does one go from here," I ask myself daily. I once held such promise. I was headed somewhere. How did I get myself mired in this... what turn did I take into this rut?
The whys and what ifs are a pointless exercise, I know, but that does not prevent me from engaging in them in moments of quiet. IT is too easy to fall prey to that habit, wondering how things might have been. As it is, I am alive. I take that for what it is worth and move on.