Reading my writings from 2012

I had so many dreams back then in 2012 and on. What happened to me? Where did my allure for life and my lust for adventure go? Replaced by tasks and daily humdrums, feeding the babies, cleaning out my inbox, doing the dishes, taking out the trash. I feel attached to this keyboard because it is a link to my yesterday. My invincibility, when I believed nothing could stop me from my path. And then I almost died. 

It wasn’t the accident though. The steel carnage helped me realize how fickle life was. Fuck, I went on a three week trip to Europe right after. I think I did it right that way. But now? I’m going over some of my goals from 2012 and my try something new for 30 days was brilliant. Why don’t I do that now again? Why do I give up? I started my schedule like I always do and it took me barely a week to break it this time. Record-breaking time. 

Nothing happened to me. I’m right here, in the ocean of life that I craved to be a guppy in. Now I’ve grown and I’m a shark, but I’ve been bottom feeding. I haven’t given myself as much free range and I’ve settled to getting scraps but I am a shark. I am a whale. I am a goddamn beluga whale and I have gotten soft. I have been missing something now because I’ve adopted lifestyles and anecdotes to go through life in calmer waters but the fire is still inside. 

I’ve come a long way and I intend to go farther, to write more, to seek bigger opportunities, and to achieve what I set out to do. I am a writer. I finished my 8 year stint in corporate America and I’m out now. 

I mustn’t be hard on myself, but I am. I intend to live for another 60 years and in that time, I intend to heal the world. 

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