I sometimes don’t know where I am going, and in the blink of an eye, my mind is somewhere else. I stand in my kitchen believing I can be a writer. I walk past my guitar believing I could be a musician. In a moment later, leaning against a counter now believing I am a fraud, writing will not happen and the guitar will collect dust. But pay attention to those last two comments. As I lambast myself a fraud, my last following phrases only speak of a negative reaction. If I tell myself those things, I am wanting them to manifest themselves. Am I trying to give myself a break, take the onus off me for not writing, not playing the guitar? My thoughts go everywhere.

I spend my evenings in robe and pajamas and I often pace my apartment, sort of a running lane of paths I can choose upon, usually enhanced with some favorite music. I am soul searching right now, feeling my age, and wanting to find a balance. If never having found balance is part of my makeup, then I am ready to make a change.

But that’s so hard to get to, that change, or the desire to make adjustments to my life. I ought to be opening new channels of thought and just let those take over my thinking. I need to get out more, not stay cooped in my apartment, but then I feel suddenly exposed to the world around me. Much safer in my abode, stay in my own world. But, that is the crucible of this whole new state of mind.

I think I don’t trust the balance, and it comes down to me. Not trusting myself, not allowing myself to be happy. I’d rather drag in the dregs than find a way out.

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