The year and a half of tremendous change

Let's call this the year and a half of tremendous change. Not only change, but trying change. The kind you hope comes to a funneled conclusion where you're more of something after. Let's see, where I'm at right now is poolside of a condo where A & I live. It's the nicest place we've lived externally. Internally, it asks a lot of us in way of patience. There are a couple girls laying on their stomachs on hot black plastic poolbeds within the salt pool, the creased V's of their squished flanks remind me of Moorea, where I was laying just weeks previous - a beach club in Vegas. That club was a lot of external glamour lacking internal glamour as well. I mean, yes, we were a part of a club, but the other members didn't make me feel like being a member was special - is that rude? No. I mean, the majority of the mass was old with fake breasts, assisting men with beer bellies & the general sense of excretion needed, spent, or swiveling in water cylinders around their orange liquored thighs. You could see the visible colored threads where some had altered their bikini's to be more of everything. It wasn't enough of the thing I wanted: true sex appeal. Maybe I've just been seeing the flawed lately, I mean, yes, I've only been seeing the flawed lately. It's a part of that year and a half of change. It's when going home doesn't feel as good as it used to. Daydreams are non. Travels are illusive, friends are different, parents are jobless, family is dying, my fingernails are growing, jobs feel detrimental to wellbeing, working feels wrong. I mean, what the hell? From all this gray I do find myself to be thrilled at times, I found more of laughter along the way, I'm doing things I've never done. What's looming is this sense of The Larger Picture. Does anyone know what I mean when I say, "No, I don't need the path, I just want an image, and if I head somewhere, I won't feel let down if it doesn't become the thing I thought it would." I just want to dream again. Imagine children, and dates, and travel, and running, and writing, and everything as leading towards something beautiful. I can't see what anything is capable of doing or where it's capable of going, and it's hard to be okay with not knowing when Time is the factor here. I want to push.

Anders is the ultimate spokesperson for Create Your Own Destiny. He lives it, and his moments of paralysis or confusion are ceased the moment he tells himself he can change it. It's really hard for me to admit it, but I am the ultimate spokesperson for Why Does Everything Happen To Me? I can't help but think it won't matter if I've chosen a thing, because things will happen to me no matter the choice or the happening. I see it as that I have no control. It's kind of like I understand that I have and have never had control over my life. I've just rolled with things since I can remember. My mother & I seem to attract this piling. This kind of collection of all things hard, and lay it on me, and let's see how much I can take before I break, but I'll never, kind of piling. This is the way a person lives who thinks that things are done to them, who feel no control, and who have - which is hard to say - given up the fight for. Now that I think about it, it's starting to become visible in my external life. I have given up control over decorating this apartment. Not much of it feels like me. I'm sitting around sad about the fact that I cannot with strength say, "This is what I want," because in truth, I cannot think of anything I Want, I don't have any feelings of declaration or demand or need or passion. The only passion staring me in the face is over figuring it out. It's about coming to understand whether or not it's the things in my life I'm unhappy with or if it'll always be just me. I'm afraid for either answer.