Tabula Rasa

I always wanted my goodbye's to be as epic as the ones I see in the movies. I want people to share their true feelings of me, whether good or bad. I want people to call off work or school obligations to see me off. I want time to stop for a brief moment while I stand there with the woman I always wanted to be with but never had the courage to approach.

But time won't stop. She'll tip her glass to me and we'll exchange no words. Some of my good friends will opt out of my final night so they can stock shelves, write papers, or cook themselves dinner so they can make their ends meet. Some of the people who can even set the time aside to say goodbye may not be capable of sharing their true feelings with anyone, much less someone who's leaving them behind.

This isn't a sad reality. While it may be reality, the only reason it seems sad is because it smashes against my silly fantasy. I think so often we see reality as cruel because of its divorce from things we see as fitting, when in reality they are only fantastical. In the grand scheme of things, it's my responsibility to objectively discern the degree of my impact on Newark, DE. I have to sort out all the mistakes I have made, while at the same time accepting the good I may have provided.

I can easily see all the people I had been more harm than help. I can see all I women I had hurt; and I hate that I had done that. All out of one childish tendency or another. This is I will set right in Richmond. Never again. I can also see all the men in I life I marginalized. I spoke down to them and regarded them as lesser life. For that I must repent. And my evil not only stops at maladjustment, but also at indifference. I didn't provide some things to people I know I should've been able to. Mainly spiritually. All of these things I must put behind me.

The fright of the blank slate lies directly within its definition; starting over. However, I'm not truly starting over. I'm still bringing the same version of myself I am leaving Newark with. I have a clean name, yet the same rather tussled identity. When I take a bird's eye perspective of what's truly happening, there's nothing epic about it! I got a job which perfectly matched up with the degree I got, and I'm moving three hours down 95 to do that job. It's a big deal; but if time's going to stop for anything, it shouldn't be that.

Growing seems to have a lot to do with accepting responsibility for the things we are ultimately responsible for. In this case, it's my responsibility to determine the spiritual things I should take to Richmond with me, and determine the things I should leave at home. It's not other people's responsibility to make me feel like I left Newark with an overall positive impact. Their input is vitally important, and helps me nail down the specifics, but I shoulder the ultimate duty of believing I'm not a malefactor in the town I live.

See how not epic being an adult can be?

Such is reality. The tricky part is accepting it and being in harmony with it. That's being an adult, and that's what I want to leave Newark and enter Richmond as.

Another Blog?

Yes. Another blog.

After a long moratorium from writing, I have started up another blog. I started a new blog because the last one has run it's course. The beginning portion of it was simply my need to externally process my feelings in public. Pretty stupid. Granted, I screwed my head on right after a while, and used the blog as a means to increase my writing chops.

This one I wish to establish a more healthy middle ground. I want to use this blog to update on my life and my writing, while at the same time stretch my prose to its limit. One could argue my last blog did that, which it did at the very end, but I hated opening it up and seeing two years of high-school-xanga-esque posts. It was discouraging. And just in the manner that I have had to mature to fit the needs of my life, so has my writing, and thus, my blogging.

That's the story. For those of you who liked my blog over the past year or so will hopefully feel the same about this new one. Let me know what you think. Thanks.