#forging
And the rivulets spun through tapestries of golden guilt, aligning themselves with the magnetic regrets of my life path. There’s a rage in me from everything that hasn’t worked out. A tendency toward pity and self-flagellation. A poor, little wretch who has come to believe that he deserves life’s beatings. But I’m a nice guy, so instead of directing that anger outward, I direct it at myself—a victim-martyr caught in a loop of self-punishment to save the world from myself. I want to wake up and feel love and purpose, but instead I just feel like I’m surviving—clawing my way back to feeling lost and uncertain only to fall back asleep and do it all over again. The child in me is scared. He’s crying in a dark room clutching his knees to his chest. I guess I’m waiting. Waiting for that fabled moment of clarity. Waiting for a beautiful woman to save me. Waiting for the path to reveal itself. Waiting for something outside of myself to make the choice for me. Waiting for life to happen instead of choosing it. I’m scared too. Scared I’ll make the wrong choice. Scared I’ll always be alone. Scared I’ll go the wrong way. But I’m more scared of waiting here forever and never knowing who I could’ve become. Yes, there are burdens in my life, pressures and darkness, but they are not the end—they are the forging. Without them I would never reach, I would never become something more. So I bless these days of darkness, these challenges in my life for blessing me with strength, wisdom and the opportunity for immense growth. Thank you.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC
When life throws up roadblocks
I don’t sit around
feeling sorry for myself
or letting the grass grow under my feet
Nah! nah! nah!
You’ll find me with my shovel
carving a path
across vast fields
venturing into new terrain
stopping to admire the view
partaking of a new menu
Yeah! yeah! yeah!
An avidity for life
that’s me to a ‘T’
you’ll find me with my shovel
carving the earth before me
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC