It's About Time

When the tank gets low, you fill it. Simple enough.

But I find myself examining why my tank is so low. I am speaking of the emotional tank, by the way. I live in New York City- no car in this mix. But hovering on E is my emotional gauge. Funny thing is, I know words float,they rise to the surface, bringing with them all that weighs heavy inside. They have the power to raise the fuel line. How many times can I have this epiphany before I actually understand it (and do something about it)? I must be going for a record. So here I go again. Time to jump back in the very scary yet incredibly therapeutic waters.

Splash.

New York grows bigger, taller, and more powerful each day. It is always one step ahead of me, the ultimate reality check. Each time I have a small victory I am dwarfed by its size, scope, and strength. One might think it would wear too much upon the soul and eventually cause departure but I must have that gene: stupidity or love of challenge/rejection- I cannot decide which. I stay here. I cannot be anywhere else and I am not sure I could be me anywhere else.

I miss being in front of the camera. I love being behind it. I have wonderful friends. I don’t see them as often as I should. I have work for now. I am scared to death about the future. I don’t want to grow up. I am older than I should be.

Splash.