Journal Entry: The Emotional Juggling Act…

I said that Phase II, Wes the Author,was coming, and it is, but it has been delayed longer than I expected.  I hoped to have something for people to critique last month.  Life has a way of dictating choices and emotional leakage can cause a blur to the reality of time; there are not enough hours in a day.  This is the ground floor of what I desire to become, so I need to make sure the foundation is more than solid. I need to make sure that it can sustain devastating blows as well as enormous success.

I realized that I have neglected certain areas in my life that then lead to negligence to other areas; those related areas and unrelated areas in the same right.

I will not go to deeply in to those short comings but they mainly have to do with my core values and my heart.  I have been impersonating Ulysses and the Sirens are calling my name.  So I am ordering myself to, “tie me to the mast of this old ship and point it home.” (Josh Garrels, “Ulysses”)

I am going to focus on those things in my life that are my passion and my heart, the core of who I am.  Neither of those things are emotional, they are the fire within.  The fire that brilliantly burns when unmitigated by deceiving distraction; illusion and misdirections.

Now, this has nothing to do with family, these are personal things that I have neglected.  Rationales that have plagued me over the years. We are all familiar with the unassuming Hoodwinker that take us captive by merely suggesting that something “might” be possible.  The suggester then sits back and drinks a lemonade whilst we begin  an emotional implosion, hand-cuffing ourselves to the dungeons of our minds.

On that note I am going to leave you with a poem I recently wrote, and then I am going to go get started on breaking up the fallow ground of my mind and heart, plant some seeds of tenacity, then water them daily with the sweat of discipline and determination. (Occasionally I will use the bitter tears of defeat and failure, but there shouldn’t be many of those if I continue steadfast and faithful.  I will be too focused on placing one foot in front of the other.)

Repressed Self

Death could be closer and I would not care

Hard, thick death could hurl around the next curve

I am unmoved

Strip me naked of my freedoms and dam my spirit of freewill and choice

Crush me in my infancy; bind me in my youth

I am unmoved

Loathe me in the shadows, in the secret rooms of your heart

Scrub me clean of self; scrape soul from body

I am unmoved

Watch me under the heavy hand, and use that hand to strike

Deport me and make me alien to the memories of my past

I am unmoved

Spew your vile hatred upon my fertile soil

Plant your kudzu of failure and fear

Reap your harvest

I am unmoved

Douse my dreams in rejection and mockery

Char my former shell

Cremate me

With jealousy ignite my flesh

I am unmoved

I am Forever

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