Losing mis-direction

​”Pacing back and forth in a fit of rage. Losing a day’s sleep within a flip of a page.”


It’s difficult to get used to being something you feared.

The silver-lining is the eventual break in a broken routine. Setting goals, wanting to do every thing at once, when doing nothing is the most yet least satisfying enigma of existence. 

You are the motivator, you are the mitigator, you are the problem and the solver. The gift of deeper understanding has been raised as a curse, used for unwarranted unnecessities.

The illusion of self-awareness is a joke that continues to get funnier with time. Laugh along. Applaud the jester in the mirror. Turn around, feel the reflection still grin. Walk away to entertain another day. 

The ink’s always been the ammunition, from the tip of your tongue to the tip of your thumbs, the arsenal boasts of versatility. The quiver, though, still has room for more. Ready. Aim. Fire. Feel content with the content. Pat yourself on the back. Celebrate your spoils.

On the darkest days and the brightest nights, your gut is your compass. Let it walk you through. Follow your own lead. Don’t fear the distractions, they get lonely without you.

Losing direction’s better than losing aim. 

“The thumbs get working on a monologue so deep… the words start flowing and the writer falls asleep.”

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