And how you got here.
There is nothing more exciting than the mundane, life in its weary drabness as you drag on into your late forties. Especially if you have been living life as a constant midlife crisis. Everything can and has been abandoned for reasons that now seem trivial, but give it time, any wound will scab and get picked away.
So, why all the blather? A big move is taking place, but I’m doing it within a relationship. It’s a total cluster-fuck of a move, but this is where life is.
Life also managed to blunder into a dream job, only the blur of waking is wearing off and the coffee is lifting the fog. The issue, as always — is — working with other humanz sux. I mean no harm, this is barely complaining, the doubt that hovers belongs to standards that continue to remain wildly high. I obviously need counseling, therapy of some sort.
This is not the average “staring into the darkness” — meandering for the sake of the journey. This doubt was unforseen by hours, nay, years of mindfulness. I want success, but with it comes a level of responsibility. Then there is an entirely separate conundrum, a lack of any obvious artistic direction. Movement towards success is made more secure when a clear vision is presented. I currently lack said clarity. Writing, hilariously, had never lacked clarity of vision, but I can’t get a grip on a visual vision, LOL…
There are spaces that exist where cohesion is obvious, however, each medium appears to have its own style. I’m guessing as time moves along I’ll see shared references, but this in-between phase can fuck off.
All photos taken by the author. All photos are tattoos given by the author.
P.S. Sometimes the tattoo artist knows what they are talking about, and that little piece of forever you are about to get, it’s your next wrong choice. Except to the ones pictured, they are extra cool