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Shoulda woulda coulda lessness

I have a friend, I won’t name him. We’ve been friends on and off, for years. When I see him, how smart he is, how kind he is, how successful e is at realizing his creative potential, the strength and fairness and accuracy of his thoughts and a sea of other qualities merge with my inability to look away from his difficulties socializing regularly or digging himself a solid place in the world at all, anything respectable at all, when I look at all of these things in my friend, I see so much of myself. I see allot of myself in everyone and anyone, it’s kind of an issue. Regardless, what I see of myself in him helps guide me in my own life. It helps me draw the line between what I feel I need to work on and what I can indeed work on, the line between who I’ve always wanted to be and who I’ve already managed to become. Keeping an close eye on his life, regardless of any specific turns or stops, keeps me at a safe distance with mine. Do any of you know one or several people who have such good and bad similarities with you that it allows you to apply a general perspective to your own life & circumstance?

Some days I think of him and feel we are both screwed. But then I look at the notes of kindness he wrote in a couple of my things, the legitimacy in them regarding hope. And how in between him being there to tell me what’s what and what’s good in times of need, he has needed me to get him to put tools for pain or suicide away.

I guess I could feel bad for sounding like a teenager, or even slightly bad for talking this way about a male friend while I have a boyfriend. A male friend who was an ex of mine, even. But that was several years ago, several indescribably log years ago, and I know where I stand ground with whom I would weather refer to as my soul-brother.

My point is that though I feel heavy under the burden of my own consciousness, under the boredom of my avoidance or the shame in my lack of cumulative independence, I can’t give up because giving up is the real abandon. I may not be certain of the choices I’ve made are the best but I’m sleeping in and waking up in an Appartment, a city, a province and even in a family and group of friends and over all life that is still very much under my control. And how lucky am I today to have the ability to control my life. And more so, to have understood the unshakable reality that I am truly in control. To understand the difference between fiction and reality. I used to barely be able to handle myself. Now, my emotional life goes back and fourth between shame strength comfort discomfort longing and acceptance and disappointment and pride and it’s all good and great but at the end of the day I keep asking myself: what do I have to show for? Where is how I can explain I’m earning my own living, not extorting it from people who don’t even have a say in the fact that their tax money is invested in me? How can I help artists believe they can be artists professionally if I myself can barely break free through the cocoon of not actually making any money but still living off free things free money and free services? I would go on to say that I feel limited but I have more than most traveller have and they are my heroes. I aim to make the best out of what I have but are my values in the right place? I feel at fault for needing to feel so safe beyond taking more risks, because the risks I have taken have lead me to great failures. I’ve always been over protective.

I know what I want for myself at Te least. I want friends and a dog and a career in art. By career in art I mean I need to fix a way to provide and to be provided; goods for goods, a part of a no-hypocrisy system. This would require me to build mental strength and endurance, to continue to learn to enjoy the fruit of my efforts but to feed it to catch up with y dreams ft myself. Reality is real and I forget that sometimes, tucked under a blanket one of the many me’s drop on the weakest and most terrified part of my core. You can’t always have a whole team of sub-selves taking care of all things. Sometimes you gotta promote some of them, as little of them as possible, one being perfection. The closer you are to being the team Te closer you’ll be to being in control of your life. And sometimes, even deciding how much of your life you want to control as how much of your life you want to set aside to happen through you at its own pace, Que Sera Sera like the wind of a new place flowing refreshingly in your hair or the comfort of suddenly deciding to ride a bus or the deep relief of smoking something when you feel you deserved it.

I wanna feel like I deserve it. Thus I mustn’t wish for it, I must create this reason. Then submerge myself in its realities. This would be a nice place in this text to mention I love the feel of the word “project”. I like it because I compare it to the feel of the word “plans” and it over rides it. I aim to be a project manager in y weird ways, not a desolate planner of potentials never opened.

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