Right. So. It's been almost a year since I've done a proper post on here. The most recent ones don't really count. Those were just records, something to be filed away, certainly not the point of this little thing. I remember when I would sacrifice sleep and creature comforts in order to post one at least every week or so. I guess I had a little more free time back then. It's not like I don't have things to talk about these days. Obviously I do. But my whole brain has kinda shifted and entered a new mindset. I hadn't even realized it until recently. I use to be a much more open person. Open with emotion, open to the idea of love, open to opportunities and open to life itself. I think that has all been knocked out of me. I am much more grounded and realistic (on the border of cynical) then ever, if that's even possible. The only thing that I believe in anymore is the concept that one day I will, again, have a bedroom of my own. Decorated, cleaned and designed by me. Whether it be in a shared apartment, house or loft. Or, God willing, a place of my own. I still get so angry about what happened and how I ended up sleeping on a air mattress in my parents condo, none of it was really due to my bad habits. It's not like I irresponsible or stupid or unwise with money or my health. It was a total outside force. Some random acts of violence, and boom! Nothing is like what it use to be. Now, I had made up my mind to move back to Chicago once my current lease was up, but I hadn't told anyone but my Ma. So she told me that I just got to come back quicker. Yes, true. I could be in worse situations. Or I could be dead. So all in all, I'm doing alright.
I try to channel the constant and daily anger I feel into something more productive. Like how to get ahead at my two jobs, that I am wildly overqualified for. Or how to train harder and push myself longer at the combat style exercises I do these days. Or I let it fuel my imagination, instead of getting angry at what's around me. Part of how my brain works these days is by not sweating the small stuff. My tattoo explains it all. As long as I have a place to sleep and food to eat at the end of the day, I'm happy. Eventually I'll build something for myself again, better and more secure this time. I know I can do that. I just have to keep fighting for it. Life sorta sucker punched me, knocked me to the floor with blood in my mouth, but it didn't kill me. So, I'll grab a weapon and start fighting for what I believe in. For what I want.
I am a little more closed off and harder then I use to be. A little more protective and cautious. Not so eager to make a mistake, just so I can learn a lesson. I've learned quite a lot over the last three years, and now I am back on the dog track I grew up on. Ready to show what I got and fight for what I want to get. Who knows, it might even be fun.
"You have all the weapons you need, now fight!" -Sweet Pea
