It's true. All my life it seems i have waited for some sort of happily ever after. One perfect event after which life would be just groovy. In the process of relying so heavily on this preposterous idea, i found myself continually disappointed and disillusioned with life and myself. I was also always comparing myself with others and maneuvering the situation around and about to somehow emerge superior in the end only because there was so much missing inside me. But something has happened. Now i'm not waiting. I'm ready for the yet more painful pitfalls of life, ready for the long haul as i said once. A short while ago i was ready to give up writing forever, i thought it would eradicate expectation from me, it would make me small, inconspicuous and useless, unable to be struck down by fate. In denial i had found anything but peace but there was no escape from the fear, the fear most of all, of hoping again. I wanted more than anything to stand up for myself to myself. My only true enemy can be me, everyone else is what i allow them to be, their relevance is subjective.
I've also found that humans aren't as simplistic and primitive as i assumed. For the first time they fascinate me and I'm interested in their life stories. For the first time i want to learn rather than have it all figured out. For the first time i crave the experience rather than the seemingly inevitable end. For the first time it seems, I'm awake.
