The End Came And It Will Come

The end is getting near, often-times there is an expectation of intent.

Do you know who you are and enjoy it? Are you happy right now? Is this important?

Do you measure your worth? What timescale do you depend upon? A week? Six months? Five years?

When things get to a knowing end, I like to look back, I like to dwell, on the best and the worst, on the angst and the pride. I guess we all have this temptation.

It's something natural, using the power of memory to float onto our judgement of ourselves. Do you regret a lot of what you've done or not done? Do you wish you could have been better?

I question my worth often. The worth of a person is a difficult thing to judge and I don't really know where to begin. There are too many variables that are too eccentric to really know what's good and what's not. I haven't volunteered this year, but I have been nice (to my knowledge) to most everyone I have met, and for that I don't deem myself unworthy. I have talked often to friends about how I want to live a 'better' life which includes an attempt at being a little more wary of the environment (yes, I'm one of those), but at the same time I'm not always sure whether I'm doing anything worthy. It's always easier to judge yourself harshly. I haven't saved anyone's life, I don't believe I've inspired someone to be better, and I don't think I'm making a great impact on this planet right now. Yet, the judgement meter flickers like a candle, never staying quite steady.

I like to think I'm a good person, I like to think a lot which sometimes tangles me in ways that are excessive. But sometimes I see or hear about people who are in monstrously shit situations and they are pulling through magnificently. So far I've had an easy life. No, that's badly stated.

So far my life has been a walk in a park. A lot of walks in parks. I've had very little difficulty with people. I'm not a confrontational person. I've lived in a small town with small people and sometimes I fear I will live on with small ideas. I am not prejudiced against the people here, but I do feel different and for that I am not always comfortable here. That sounds prejudiced. I don't think anyone here is a bad person for being here (people can be that for other reasons unrelated to this topic) but I don't feel I fit in with myself. It's a breeze living here, the people are friendly, everyone ends up knowing your name, and it's close enough to bigger towns and cities to be considered as a halfway point.

But this is not me in my mind. I have an idea of who I am and it's drastically different from the life I am leading. I want to have a direction laid down, a meaning to follow, I want it to be pissing down while I run through a black and white street wearing a raincoat, not sure if I'm going to make it to my destination, not sure what it brings. I think I want an adventure. I want to meet people that will make me question the essence of life.

But this is not me in reality. This is the me on the horizon, close enough to see but too far to grab.

The year is almost up and I hope you are looking at yourself in eternal glee. Or a questioning gladness. I am hopeful, there is a new beginning about to start. The end will come, and again it will arrive. Reality does not work in absolutes.

From one blink to the next, everything changes.

Maybe this will be My Year. You know, the one where everything truly becomes what it will. My cocoon will crack, I will pry it open, I will become free.

And maybe, just maybe, you will be there by my side, and our stories will blossom. Because art was never meant to be a solitary life.