If I had to liken myself to any two objects, the first would be one of those pullback/release type of toy cars. You know how they feel when you pull them back; as though they’re about to explode out of your hands? Well, when you let me go, I’ll charge ahead blindly at full speed, until I hit the wall.
Another object would be a bullet. Once fired, I would usually destroy my target without caring about collateral damage. I was one who very much believed that the ends justified the means.
I’m not as reckless as I used to be. In fact, the older I get, the more things come into perspective.
I should’ve done something about my children a long time ago, but I didn’t, and I try not to waste time lamenting things that cannot be changed. Here and now is what I have to work with. I am terrified of being a single father. At nineteen, I edited out Eminem CD’s and allowed my son to sing along, and at thirty-two, I’m wondering what the hell I was thinking. I don’t engage in random acts of violence. I don’t even dress the same way anymore.
In short, I’m not going to have any idea what I’m doing.
I will have help—for which I’m grateful—but in the end, these two children are my responsibility, as I’m the one who brought them into this world. I don’t believe I’m any less guilty than their mother—we both left—and no matter what arrangement I work out with my children, I will never abandon them again.
I enjoy helping people and making a difference in people’s lives, even if it’s people I don’t know. I do this largely because I believe in karma, but also, it’s the right thing to do; I’ve had a lot of people help me for no reason throughout the years, I feel almost obligated to return the favor. My problem is that I don’t know as much as I think I do, and I absolutely hate to say no to someone in need. I used to habitually say yes and then apologize later, feeling guilty that I failed.
Okay, I admit to being pretty screwed up.
I’ve come to realize that there are things I know, and things I’m very good at, and those things I can pass on.
I would still like to create a place that encourages creative freedom; a place where writers, artists, and other creative minds can meet and bring their dreams to life without (too much) restraint. I have no idea how to do this right now, but when it’s time, I’m sure I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll use the little traction I have as a writer.
I’d like to be able to work as a full-time writer. I had a little taste of it last month; as unbelievable as it seems, I paid the bills using nothing but my imagination. It’s an addictive, galvanizing sensation, and I want more of it. Besides, being able to work from home allows me to spend more time with my kids…and family.
So there it is. This is what I’m about now, this is what I dream about, this is what I’m working for.
Maybe the next time I speak of my dreams, I’ll be able to compare myself to something less destructive than a bullet.
From the publish button to God’s ear.
Posted by mmdev 
