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What I sometimes wonder about is, why do I end bad things in the way that I do? When something doesn’t feel right, when I do something I don’t believe, why does the sky always open up, thunder come down, and the world shake?
I used to think it was a character flaw, now I’m not sure.
When I sat at home and wore a thick beard and thought that I was broken, it seemed that it was a crippling fault. When I knew more deer than men and didn’t know what to do, I thought it was proof that I was going to die.
In certain ways, over time, I’ve been burned by becoming too cozy with things I knew were not right. I let myself believe mundane lies, which I became. I lived in a glass world, with snow sky and thin, curving walls. Each time I was shook out and the glass broke. Each time I spent time—sometimes years—building up again after the fall. Sometimes into the same man, poised for break. Once or twice into something new, more than the last time.
Now I think I am alert. Now, I think, for the most part, I am aware of myself as a human being.
But now I shut-down, more than ever, at insincere moments.
I am passionate, is it just that? Is it just honesty, and knowing what is not right? Is it overcompensating for my past mistakes? I don’t know, and knowing, I know, will take time. In time I will have to learn that myself is separate (in some ways) from what I do, that it can be strong if I am strong, not so prone to contamination and breaks. If that is true, maybe not. Maybe I have to stay the same man, in that way. One thing I like, that I will tell you I like, is that I am not ready or willing for the sucker-in. I’m not one who will soon (without struggle) Sell Out. For my writing, to continue, for any kind of success, it could be the best chance that I have.