Facing the shadow in the mirror, that black cloud possessed version of you. It’s haunting, ever-present. A sly smile and a dark-rimmed eye. The twin that will never go away.
It says things. Mean things. Harsh things. Truthful things.
You’re lazy. You had so much time, and you wasted it.
You’re going to eat another one? You’ve had three.
Crying? Think you’re so stressed? Try living in such-and-such a country with daily tragedies.
You want to write a book? And what do you have to say that’s so interesting?
They are small moments, dark moments, that stick behind your eyelids and giggle in your ear at night. The worst part is the truth. The twisted honesty in the insults and lashes.
I am lazy. I do overeat when stressed. Being overly stimulated makes me cry. I don’t have much experience to draw from for stories.
But… there are other truths. The same truths. Flipped on their heads.
I’m paralyzed by potential projects, potential solutions, potential experiences. I can see so many possibilities. The world opens up before me with every thought. I can see corners no one else cares to look into.
Food is amazing and I enjoy trying new things. Cooking gives me a creative outlet without any outward expectation placed on my shoulders. I can make food, watch TV, and slip into an easy, smiling rhythm.
Being around a lot of people gives me new ideas, new things to process, to consider. I take it all in, every detail. While overwhelming, it matters. I’m never stuck on one thread or some dogmatic ideal. I’m a sponge.
I do want to write, to tell a story; my story, your story, a human story. And while I’ve had limited experiences in my life, I can observe like nobody’s business. Maybe that’s why I haven’t had the opportunity to live some crazy life. I’d be too overwhelmed, too stimulated. I’m an observer.
There is always good in the bad. Always light in the dark. You just have to find it, hold on, and keep it close when the road darkens ahead.