I figured I’d allow myself the freedom to write by not being OBLIGATED to find the perfect title, the most amazing topic or the ideal…anything.
I won’t be so hard on (giggidy) myself and just do. Often times I get so in my head about how I would look, how I might come off (giggidy) that I’d stop myself from doing a thing before I’d even start. I’ve had a ton…well maybe not a ton..more like pounds. I’d have pounds of ideas which I never initiated because I wanted to find a “more better” version or I couldn’t imagine being seen as someone who isn’t as polished as I envision myself to be.
F*@& that guy! I’m not perfect and I’m going to ‘fail’ a heap more times. What I put out there won’t be perfect. It won’t be the best I can EVER do. I am going to continue to grow, learn and outgrow what I’ve previously done. But the worst thing I can do is to not do anything at all.
So if you’re reading this, let’s make a pact! I will give you room to grow, mature and fail into the person who you wish to be and you do the same for me, yea?
<With the stipulation that we can’t be shitty on purpose. If either one of us sees that the other is content with being a shitty version of themselves with no active & comparable steps toward greatness…then pact retracted>
It’s 5 AM on a crisp Tuesday morning in Crawford, Georgia. I’ve resolved to get up before the sun in order to be more than what I was. I’ve known for some time now that I have a shit ton of more “can” in me.
I CAN be more personable in my interactions. I CAN be more consistent in my writings. I CAN be more of a creator (as opposed to just a consumer). I CAN be more present in my life.
During my bout with cancer, I told myself that when I get passed it, I would live more. That I would take more chances & stop hiding behind a veneer of “I’ve got time”. I bartered my creativity, my mind, the core of who I am; all in exchange for more opportunities to breathe this air, walk on this soil & experience this time.
In a sense, I bargained with God.
As a result, I feel obligated to do something worthwhile with these constant gifts of 24 hours.
According to the bargain I made/the jargon I’ve laid, the debt I paid is living creatively. A tit-for-tat, a this for that, not completely unlike blackmail. I’ll take these gifts of breath, wrap ’em in content & depth because constant monotonous nonsense is death. An extraordinary life is what’s next for this black male.
Okay, everyone has an origin story. The villain has a reason why she/he creates chaos & the hero has a purpose for trying to maintain peace. The collection of thoughts & composites of creativity I deposit here will serve as somewhat of a reference point for future use.
Whether I am viewed as a hero, villain or something in-between…that’s not for me to judge. I just know, I won’t be average.