I wouldn’t call it a rollercoaster, but…

It’s been 4 weeks since I posted anything on this blog.

November has been an insanely busy month with life’s ups and downs. There’s work, my mental health taking a toll at times, and I didn’t do anything creative. I’ve been internalizing a ton of stress, depression, and anger about different things. More lies have been exposed in my life and I’m still adjusting to different realities whether they involve me or not. There are so many hypocrites and I want to do my best to combat these double standards. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve been more cognizant. I should’ve been better at finding whatever confidence I have (or what’s left of it) when others don’t get undermined like I have been. How I will progress with my creative works remains to be seen.

I will be erratic in posting until I can get certain things in order.

P. S. Thank God those devils got convicted for killing Ahmaud Arbery. It’s a shame that they would’ve gotten away with it had those atrocities not have been filmed.

Essential Time

My time is given for others even though I’m able to make a buck in this uncertain juncture.

My gloves are on, but I don’t have to go to the ring.

While I may have looked down on one occupation, I found some importance even when I wanted to do something else.

My health is on the line each time I walk through the door to help.

The diligence becomes greater as my creative works are harder to reach.

Maybe I should’ve canceled that challenge to write even if I have more reason to stay at home when I’m not on the clock at one place.

I’m glad I’m considered useful, but I wonder what the new normal would look like.

Reki

I was looked up to by so many in the community
The de facto leader of sorts for them
I was there to show them the way and to learn about the town
After so many hours of being in front of others
I had to retreat to my studio

With canvases, brushes, and paint
I had to express myself when I wasn’t around the rest
While I was seen as the big sibling around
I felt so insecure
Like I was constantly being stepped on
Or having a train racing through my direction

Was I truly ready for flight no matter how small my charcoal feathered wings were?
I hated to admit this, but I needed to be rescued