If you click on the Past tab above, and then its Future,
that’s the only time these two sites will ever mirror each other.
That’s not so much by design, as it is by circumstance.
It’s ironic that the last thing I wrote is who I eventually became.
That’s not entirely true, but the whispers made in the
distance then have grown louder in recent months, only now
they’re being echoed by the people that I’m actually working with.
There are days when I seriously consider leaving the coffee pot on
at the Quick Stop, only to discover it engulfed shortly after 6 AM,
but instead of trying to put it out, I disregard the flames, and keep
driving by. Does that make me a bad guy? For ruining an opportunity?
Didn’t I know full well that my behavior was impeachable going in?
And yet I chose to proceed anyway, by being indifferent about my day to day,
so how can I truly be surprised that the articles are starting to get written?
I don’t live up to my name. I still haven’t made business cards,
because I don’t feel ownership, and every day I’m still as scared
as the day I took it over, because I know it can be taken away,
and the dreams that were built on the back of a promise end up turning into
nightmares created by a selfish writer who’s simply not honest with himself about what he wants to do.
I often wonder, how much longer are we going to remain powerless?
I spoke of cars, castles, and company, but the apartment hasn’t happened yet.
A lot of what this year was supposed to accomplish exists solely in a bank account,
instead of in the hearts and minds of those who made it possible, and he who was made responsible,
and ultimately is accountable for any and all progress, or other
moving-forward-in-life shit, but he feels stuck, so if it’s really taken away,
is there any real sense of loss? I don’t know. I guess I’ll wait for my second-term.