Free Ya’ Mind

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I grew up wanting to be famous. You know, be on tv and stuff. I wanted my own show like Raven. I wanted to sing. Make people laugh, cry,  applaud.

Me. Shy. Quiet. Anxious. Stutter. Whisper. Shh. Me.

I knew I was scared of something. The big people. The grown ups scared me. They looked up to me. Expected me to be good. Smart. Eloquent. But I wasn’t. I was too scared.

Me. Saved. Set apart. Different. Goody Good. Bible reading, cartoon drawing, humor loving, me.

I didn’t want to be scared. I believed I was chosen. I would break cycles and curses. I would bring freedom and wealth. I would bring art to the dark and desolate places. If I could ever get up and go.

Me. Mature. Open. Hopeful. Happy. Artsy, Cutesy, flowers in the hair, me.

I wanted to leave, more and more everyday. I wanted to explore the world I was so afraid of. I wanted to get out. But I wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t encouraged. Wasn’t expected to step out of my comfort zones. I thought that was the point all along. To say goodbye, eventually.

Me. Naive. Hobbyist. Dreamer. Head-in-the-clouds. Optimist. College-educated-wanna be.

Me. There I was again. Growing up. Growing into my pain. Into the pain that would chisel away at all I once knew to be true. The pain cut deep and long. Dark and bloody and pulsating. The pain. Of losing your-S E L F.

Me. Sad. Depressed. Dark. Holding on to anger. Me. Pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain. I just want to die.

So, I rose again. One more time. I gave mySELF another shot. Sigh. But I was still so tired. So broken. So very much in pain. In pain in a new land, a new city.. as they call it. A pain I had to mask. Still. Not showing myself, my face. Still hiding. Still ashamed.

Me. Searching. Running. Searching. Finding. Losing. Searching. For me.

Unhoused and unchecked. I checked out, in order to check in. And I had to check in. I checked in with myself. I had talks with myself. I even sang to myself. I tried new things. Slept around. Drank. Smoked. Lived and lied.

Me. Divergent. Neuro-Spiritual. Neo-Soul. Dead and alive. Human and Divine. Searching, Collecting, Gathering.

Why can’t I just be normal now? Nope. I still want to be famous. I’m too poor, too unhoused, too unconventional, too different to be famous. too much of a failure to be rich. Too much of a joke to be taken seriously. Me?

Seriously, get a job. Seriously, save money. Seriously, choose a career and stick to it. Seriously, just be normal. Just be still. Seriously. Shut up.

Sigh. Arms-crossed, angry-stare, lips-poked-out. Angry cry. Angry cry. Nap it away. Sigh. Still want to be famous. It’s not fair.

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I still want to be famous, I’m just being real honest. I still want higher self and me to be friends. I want to make HER proud. The SHE that sent ME to myself. I want to make her proud. That’s why I want to be famous. Me.