It’s dawned on me that I’m at a crossroads of sorts. An in between sort of phase. Between the man I was and the man I’m becoming. I’m not even entirely sure who that man is yet.
But I just look around at all the things which surround me, from clothes, to fragrances, jewelry, my car, the foods I eat, the drinks I drink, the content I consume, the thoughts I think, the actions I take, the people I talk to, the places I go.
Theirs a lot of newness contrasting with a lingering sense of oldness. Like my room is filled with clothes I no longer wear, 90% at least. I wear 10% of my clothes 100% of the time. So why don’t I get rid of them? What am I holding onto? Is this a subconscious way of holding onto the past? To comfort? To familiarity?
I guess what I’m getting at is, I think I’m holding onto the past too much. I’m LIVING too much in the past.
Here in front of me, I have a blank canvas, and I can paint how I want it. Yet time and time again, I paint the same picture with ever so tiny changes.
I’m so tired of this picture, I think it’s time to burn it up in flames