Alright, I’m going to vent a little bit right now and try my best to do it without being completely whiny and ungrateful sounding. Life has been rough lately. Don’t get me wrong, I was laughing hysterically about almost dying on Friday as my front wheel fell off while driving down Westcott Street, but I’m not laughing about it now. The bad thing about having a mostly positive attitude is that it pulls out the spotlights when you don’t keep the rhythm of the drum you normally beat. I’m eager to find joy in hardships and I am grateful for the provisions placed in my life, but I still feel so utterly broken in every area of my life. I understand that life can suck and I will not hesitate that point out my short end of the stick life, but the part that I cannot seem to get over is as follows: I have it very, very, very good.
When I stop and think about life, I’ve done most of the things that are on people’s bucket lists. For instance: I’ve had a personal conversation with my childhood hero, I’ve opened for my favorite band, I’ve traveled overseas to ride my bicycle, I’m on TV, I’ve been in international magazines, I’ve gone skydiving with my dad, I’ve met the most beautiful girl this earth has to offer; I’ve done an awful lot and honestly, none of it really matters to me. I am thankful for every single blessing, but there is something that has been missing in my life for some time now. I remember when I used to care and not be so callous. Life has never worked out the way I imagined it would, but it’s always worked out, I guess. I’m trying to take the steps to find true joy again and not be so self-involved with where I am and what I do not have that I think is somehow “owed” to me. I’ve been depressed a good portion of the time I’ve lived in Syracuse. I’ve hidden it well for a large portion of my stay, but it has never dismissed itself wholly. I’ll get good chunks of time where I am happy and content with where I am, but I somehow find a way to sabotage my perspective and fall fast to my face once again. Career, churches, the girl/relationships, financial, dreams, etc… I make ruin of it all eventually. I try to keep my head up and press on with the past as the past and that works for about a week, until I create a new plan to destroy or something like that. Either way or any way you look at it, my life is a mess. I paint it well and it’s true that all men lie; I am a liar. I’m looking for answers and for the light that leads me home.
This era will fade. We become the voice with nothing to say. And we had no choice.