Discontent

How cool is it that my mind was always making an effort to talk to me all these years? I always said out loud, “it is what it is” or “everything happens for a reason,” but I never paid attention. All this time, I believed it was trying to drive me crazy, but all of it was for a reason.

I have a lot more to give, and that’s all I have ever wanted to do. No, that doesn’t mean I have to wear myself down and avoid rest. It just means that I need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing when I’m doing it. Not spending time on things that I do not want to do and doing the things I’ve wanted to do even if it makes me look like a fool. Because the reality is that sometimes I am a fool, and being a fool has been underrated. Hindsight has taught me that. Most good memories start with a feeling of foolishness. Dare you to think of a memory that doesn’t start with it; go ahead. Bet.

My mind has been trying to tell me a story, but I’ve never been good with words.

Discontent.

It’s not that I’m unhappy with everything that I’m doing. On the contrary, I could allow myself to enjoy the moment. It’s my imagination that hasn’t given up on me. I’ve always told myself and had a fixed mindset versus a growth mindset. I’m not the same kid I was when I was six years old and couldn’t color in between the lines. I don’t have to have this in my head every time I’m doing any art project. I’m human. I make mistakes, but even those mistakes have been so badass. I feel like I have all this weight on my shoulders to be the pioneer for everyone around me, but that’s why I have some fucking broad shoulders. I could carry all of this weight. Who says no?