I’ve dug through old files a lot lately, tossing out receipts and unfolding slips of paper covered in words. The following was written, according to Google Docs, on January 29th. I don’t remember writing it. At all. I’m posting it because it’s interesting, and because I think it’s sometimes helpful to see the mess inside another person’s head.
My ambition is large, active and penetrating and I will tear apart the world and build it anew each day because I have to. There is no way to explain this, and yet we begin to try, while cleaning our ear with a cotton bud. I have no secret tool to balance the mundane with the profound, material with potential, reality with dream. They must all fall and rise again in their own way, balls we juggle badly and often leave knocking against themselves on the floor for years.
I seek to see all concealed truths and straighten every mental tangle. I seek to clear the way for those that come along. I seek to tend a path few bother to attend. Who will recognize and support this, spoken or unsaid, paid for or not, who will respect for my perception and compassion, my emotional flexibility, my desire to be an ever-growing person?
I think I need to become a shrink and spend three years in a Buddhist monastery and then help people. Or, since I usually decide not to go to college, find another way to do that.
I think maybe I need to admit I’m an aimless twenty-something who has not hit her stride yet. Pity.