Some beach...
Well, I was at a stoplight when this song started playing and the mix of exhaustion and impatience caught up to me. I got lost in my head, sitting on a beach. Something straight out of a movie. I completely blocked out everything that was going on around me and I did not want to leave the world I had immersed myself in. Until the damn car behind me started honking and in a daze I continued on...
I ran across a quote the other day that pinched a nerve. Something about waiting for the next obstacle or situation to pass until we can start our lives, but then realizing that all the hangups and frustrations we have in our daily lives is actually 'our life.' I'm fully aware that my time here is waning and my life will in fact start again. The trouble I see in this, is that I wonder if I really have what it takes to become the person who lives the life I dream of living.
Am I going to run into the same old shit that I've been experiencing the last few years of my life? Am I going to attract people that uplift me or am I going to be a magnet for something less than desired? For the critical judgmental people in my life, you're right. I'm Mr. Negativity and nothing will change no matter how far I try and run. Eat a dick...
I left a good life for something I thought would be great and I got sucked into a life that I tried to accept as 'OK' because of guilt. The restaurant was one of the biggest, best mistakes I've made yet in my life. I'm glad I did it, but the negative headway I've made as a person is really starting to get me down. Yes, I sold out. I gave away something to people who walked all over me. I let it happen because I wanted out. I could have stuck to my guns, proved everyone wrong and opened the second location as was in the works. The reason I've never told anyone about what I had planned is because I knew the response I'd get. 'Do it!'...
I had a lease contract in place and a plan to open up my second location. The problem was, I lost everything in my heart. The money that would have been made proved nothing for the success I wanted as a person. I was doing it for the wrong reason. I was doing it to prove others wrong. Not a single piece of the plan had to do with me being happy.
I chose to attend flight school because I've always wanted to fly. When I was fourteen I took my first flight in a little Cessna...N45454. I still remember the call sign... The flow of money wouldn't have been a problem at that time but I used it as a crutch to quit pursuing it. If I did other things with my life it made others happier. That's what matters right? So why would a guy with a business in the green with plans for a new location within a year and half of opening drop it all for a life less than extraordinary? Follow along in the blog and if you care to find out, you will.
I still have my Harley... Material as it is, it is the one thing that reminds me to start living for myself. I drive a less than 'cool' twenty year old Honda, live in shitty college dorms, work at a pseudo-discount lumber store and I have no social life to write home about. I want to throw everything I own away and start fresh... This is in fact what I plan on doing.
I'm going to run away from my problems. I'm going to expect a better life. I expect friends to hold up their end of the bargain and I'm going to look for things to be happy about. I'm going to expect this because I'm making a choice in my life to do something I want to do for myself and no one else. In turn I hope to rebuild bridges I've burned. I have to be happy though. Happy with the life I choose for myself. At the end of the day the one who I go to bed with matters the most... And right now the one who I go to bed with is me.
What I just realized as I was re-reading this doing a little proofreading... No one wants to read this shit about me. At least not these long drawn out whiny blogs. I need to start writing some intriguing stuff. Stuff about sex, embarrassing tales, inspiring moments, life changing stories...
Here's a possible idea... What if I found some people who live troubled lives and I immerse myself in them for a few days... (Or weeks)... Then I'll write about it. How about life as a quadriplegic.... If I think my life sucks now, how would it feel to have to live my entire life having someone else wipe my ass for me everyday... Any volunteers?