There is some avoidance inside me right now. I’m hiding away behind distractions. I sink myself so deeply in them that I don’t let myself see anything else. That’s where I am right now. Behind a wall of distractions. I tell myself circumstances make it so, but they don’t. Sure I have more responsibilities now than ever before, but I’ve managed so far. Each day I grow more and more accustomed to everything. All the demands for the day, it’s nothing to me I can do anything. That’s why I’m upset with myself right now. It’s because I know that I can do anything. I can be anything. I should be more excited. I shouldn’t let stupid things get in the way of my sight. Of the possibilities of what I might become. That should be all my mind thinks about.
It’s strange how capable I’ve become. Tasks that used to drain me now barely leave a mark. I’ve grown into the weight of my life—but somewhere along the way, I stopped carrying the one thing that matters most: intention. I let distractions become disguises. I let them pretend to be rest when really, they’re escape routes. And I’ve taken those exits too often. That’s what hurts—not weakness, but wasted strength.
There’s a storm of potential just beyond this fog, and I can feel it pressing in. I know what I’m capable of. I’ve touched it before. I’ve seen glimpses of what it looks like when I’m all in. That version of me scares me a little. Not because I doubt him, but because I know how different he is from the one who hides behind scrolling and silence. He’s not perfect. He just doesn’t flinch.
So I’m calling it out now. The avoidance. The pull to numb. I’m stronger than it. I’m clearer than it. And I’m ready to walk forward with the kind of excitement that turns into fire. The kind that doesn’t wait for conditions to be ideal. I’ll push through the haze and reclaim the only thing that’s ever really mattered—my own becoming.
