Outlining Things

Outlining things becomes an aggressive force that works for you and against you. My papers, whether blank or written on, are scattered all over the floor. My whole vision of the outcome crumbles into thousands of pieces. I am only seeing the horrors of horrors, and I am not even close to the end of this unpredictable road full of risks and sacrifice. But at the same time as everything around me is crashing down, and all that I thought to be Me is dissolving I remember the newness of this journey. I eventually come to realize my foundation. I am a seeker, and there is nothing that I or anyone can do about that. My identity rests in a place that no one can see. Labeled as songwriter and writer. That is as far as people will go with it. They don’t care about the “spiritual blah blah” that I experience. Or the many painful, cold, emotional and lonely battles that you triumph over. I am alone with all that. I am ultimately alone (with the journey). And that is why I am a writer, an artist, a seeker. I crave the truth. Not the illusion of living.