Purpose is always a strange one
A concept that can be subjective, malleable, difficult to attain or even define
Some of us let the institutions, the societal and the familial help define it, I know I have
Some of us alter our brain chemistry, travel to new places or dive into bohemia in pursuit of it, or maybe to escape from it
Others just let themselves build purpose out of emotion, personality, english or maths, political affiliation, talents and passions
The lucky ***** who can take the abstract phantom, as familiar as the inconceivable cells that form us, and create something real and identity defining

I hope to count myself among them, picking my pursuits and examining my psychology to put myself in the right direction
I guess my purpose has been one of retribution and self examination, one which I am proud to succeed in small ways in creating
Clearing out the hoarder's den of emotional and slightly Freudian interconnection bursting uncomfortably behind my eyes
And rebuilding, the work a combination of investigation and trial and error, gradually developing a man I didn't need to hate anymore

Now I speak to you through a portrait that isn't for sale, allowing me free reign over the paints
But.. forgive me if I feel as though my journey is coming to fruition at a bad time for the world around me, a sod's ******* law that leaves a bitter taste
And forgive me if on this journey, that I realise the repression from previous years, what I see as a valid anger for enemies brief and bashful or longer present and more traitorous
An anger that in the true macro context of a global battlefield and an era of apathy and division, is irrelevant and selfish
But when someone you love ***** you over, and you know they are out there giving into a weak parasitic nature that you despise, and becoming less of the image of them you loved when you could stand the ******* sight of them
I feel like I have the right to be angry, and that anger has become a preoccupation, but.. education has taught me perspective, and my pursuit of purpose has taught me what's important - my responsibility to enjoy life and continue passed this distracting anger

I am not homeless, I am not ill, I am not under threat
I do not live in the various definitions of slavery my brothers, and more so my sisters are exposed to
I do not fear death, a fear which spreads validly throughout the global war zone, as the powerful find new and interesting ways to give up their humanity
I do not sit in the streets uncomfortable from the cold surrounded by the nicest shops unable to buy something to eat

My life is on an upward momentum and each step I take and each new friend I find reminds me that it might just be worth it
Reminds that my pursuit of purpose, while slightly less tangible than that of the doctor with a patient or the soldier with a mission, takes precedent
Contentment and health, writing the story and learning the trade, contributing both socially and through hard graft to a company I don't have any ethical issue with
And diving headlong into bohemian self indulgence and social revelry
Whilst gradually constructing a self image that can actually encourage a smile out of me
I feel like for the first time I'm doing life right

So while I may have days where the air tastes bitter, where my psychology fails at helping maintain my preferable way of being seen
And days when it's just a bit ****
I feel like I have purpose, a direction and decent image of myself
So I remember to be grateful, quit my ******* and keep going