Mirror of Self
It was at some point during the middle of the night when I realized something. Have you ever known something about yourself, but the light comes on in your head and you see it, and yourself more clearly? Well, it happened to me. It’s like my brain was playing a compilation of bad movies for me to screen. The movies were the same. They carried the same theme, the same plot, the same storyline. The score sounded the same, heavy on the dread, heavy on the darkness.
So, while writing this, how far do I go? Like, I don’t want to think about the things I want to change, let alone write about-not all the time. So, okay, let’s do it.
I’ve been a misfit on every job I’ve had. I am only complete when I am writing, taking pictures and dreaming up ridiculous ideas and schemes. I never stay on a job for long because I’ve never belonged to, or fit into the rhythm of southern, white, racist capitalism. I’ve never fit into anything unless it’s my own project and that would be pretty much at home. This all probably doesn’t make sense to anyone reading it. It doesn’t make sense to me. All I can say is I’ve never had a job to make me happy or feel secure. I have always felt misplaced and I know it’s not imposter syndrome, but more of anxiety and insecurities. The only way I can be successful is to write my own script. The purpose for my time on this Earth has to be addressed inside my soul. No one can stop me, or make me go-only I can do that. I think we all have to know ourselves. We have to start the fire that is our destiny.
Written by Michael Allen
Escape Indie, All Rights Reserved