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A lot has been brewing around me and I can feel the energy of it, like the subtle vibration of old train tracks before seeing the smoke in the distance. I’ve been through storms before. Some are terrifying. But some are beautiful. This one feels beautiful. Meant. Past due. Life has felt like a desert for a while now and I’m thirsty for rain. A change in temperature. Lightning. And I hold up my bottle, hoping to catch it.

Because I need to experience something that isn’t almost anymore. So I can dissolve that false belief about myself.

There’s calm after every storm and most people hold on with two hands, desperately waiting for the storm to pass. Because it’s after the storm where they find their peace and tranquility. For me, calm scares me. Silence is eerie. I’ve had too much of it in my life. I start to feel dead. I find myself waiting and waiting is not living. Waiting is dying. I’ll take the risk to be shaken. Again. Because every time life shakes me, I learn something about myself and my direction.

It’s weird. I give a fuck but don’t give a fuck. I care more now than ever before about what I’m building and the flag my team and I hold daily. But I don’t put weight on expectations anymore. I’ve been burned so many times. Expectations are always a trap. So I don’t expect. Instead I am just grateful. Gratitude doesn’t create steep cliffs to fall from. Gratitude creates breath and throws you into the eye of the hurricane, where you are safe, yet moved.

I’ve been working on this whole relationship with myself thing. I spend a lot of time alone. I’m writing this on my phone in a coffee shop, surrounded by bodies but only engaging with my thoughts and feelings. I’m around people at work and the gym but feel like I’m always alone. Maybe because I’m not in something right now. And that’s weird but okay. Maybe for the first time career will come before love. I’ve been trying to let intuition ride shotgun. But I don’t know him well. We just drive with awkward silences. Logic and I used to banter. But he’s now in the trunk, gagged and duct taped. He has always been a false friend. And I finally had the courage to cut ties. I want to know intuition now, and trust him like Thelma trusted Louise. I want to be a spiritual person so I can live a through-me life instead of a by-me life. Because life by you is where true loneliness lives. Connection is made in the through. And through means you have to know and trust yourself so well that you actually let go of yourself. After I typed that sentence, I read it again. For me. People hold on to themselves because they don’t know themselves. It comes from fear. When you hold on to you, you’re a stone. When you let go, you become a prism.

Speaking of fear, I’m afraid to sleep again. This shitty sleep thing won’t go. But I’m trying not to give it power. Not sure what’s going to happen when I share a bed. Maybe I’ll sleep again. I just deleted this paragraph about sleep because I don’t want to give my insomnia power but then rewrote it because it is my truth and truth will always eclipse all.

I’ve made it far enough to where money matters less. Titles matter less. People’s opinions matter less. By “made it” I mean age. You get to a point in your life where you just want different things. I want experiences now. And I’ve said this before but it came from the guy tied up in my trunk, mister logic. And he read it in self betterment books or a meme. I actually feel this today, and there’s a sense of growth from this shift, not wanting. Not that I don’t want things. I’ll always want things. But that’s not what I’m chasing. It’s the 10th round and I’m grateful for the fight instead of punching to survive. Or maybe I’m just entering the ring. I wish. Anyway, I’m here.

Bring the storm.

I’m ready.

Author of “I Used To Be A Miserable F*CK” . IG: theangrytherapist.

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