The Fifth of November and Other Events with Bonfires

It’s the fifth of November – something’s gotta burn. I figure it’s the best time for me to do another post, since so many things have burned down for me over the last month.

Guy Fawkes Mask (Brian Chan)
Guy Fawkes Mask (Brian Chan) (Photo credit: soozafone)

My sense of job security. My sense of self. My belief that what I am and what I’m good at are good enough. Of course, it’s not that simple. I’ll always have to be better than my own version of better, and I’ll always have to be something that I never aspired to be.

It’s not always a bad thing. I like the people around me, and I like learning new things. Still, it’s a little depressing to finally TRULY understand something that I admitted out loud but secretly never accepted:

I’m destined to sell out so OTHER people can be exactly who they want to be.

I’ve come to terms with it, of course. And there’s nothing wrong with not becoming what you always thought what you would become – Mike Wazowski may not have become the Scarer that he hoped he would become in Monsters University, but that doesn’t make him any less amazing at what he DID become (If you haven’t watched Monsters U, then I apologize for the spoiler – but please watch it; it’s my favorite Pixar prequel/sequel). But I have to admit that it still stings that I’ll have to at least put my dream of making money doing what I love to do in favor of making money doing something that I apparently suck at. Seriously. I know that it’s only been like a month and I’m not necessarily trained for this, but I really do get upset over the number of mistakes and oversights I’m guilty of at the moment. All this makes me even more afraid for my ability to provide for my family, which makes me even worse at my current tasks. Hooray.

As it is, it took an awful lot of willpower to post this. I haven’t written anything that I’m particularly proud of in almost two months, I’m still behind on my personal email, and most of my free time is spent either watching old episodes of Cold Case, show-binging on television series episodes that I’ve missed, or playing Pokemon X because ALL MY POKEMON ARE ADORABLE AND I’M STILL ANGSTING OVER THAT LUCARIO INCIDENT (I might do a post on that if I feel like it).

Oh, I act all cheerful and giggly most of the time. But when I’m alone in the evenings, when everything has gone dark and fairly quiet, I look back at my dreams as a youth. I take them, fluttering paper wings in my hands. Then I burn them, and the anarchy I feel in me.

The way I see it, it’s the  only way I could let them shine right now. They will be gone, and will be illumination to other people’s dreams.

God, I hope I don’t regret this. I hope I don’t resent myself.

I hope I can post something more cheerful after this.

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