When did all types of complications make their formidable entrance?
I have always stood by the idea that having a non-linear path and having an interesting story to narrate, are far more relevant and contribute far more to the world than does the path of the entitled and the easily acquired.
Still, the complications of income, or lack thereof, experience, or lack thereof according to a superior, clouds any lasting rays of optimistic light - almost like a Manhattan skyscraper that blocks sunlight. Almost -
There are complications among basic tasks that are carried out routinely, like eating or washing one’s hair. All these impediments to a meditative state of living have become a malicious malignant-like tumor, metastasizing every chance it gets.
My head was pounding yesterday, but not the normal, physical ache that I am usually able to relieve with a simple Tylenol.
The pounding in my head was different; It was the jumble of, “what are you doing today?”, mingled with “should you spend time walking for exercise or sit and study for the GRE”, with a pinch of “what are you eating?”
Pent up energy on rebuttals having gone unheard caused me to have to grant pardon as well as forgive and, hopefully, let pass rather than forget.
Clearly, nothing has been forgotten, hence the blog post.
Always competitive and fiercely pummeling through academia without regard for intimidation by others, I remained that staunch person-in-pursuit. That is to say, I would remedy whatever I considered to be rejection or failure by internalizing the scenario, nullifying the negative, and outputting the positive, or gaining brownie points.
Since college, however, my internalization, nullification, and profiting process, was lengthened by an addendum. This addendum was the subconscious component to an otherwise tangible protocol.
I was aware of walls being erected all around me.
*Note: I am not referring to the stereotypical use of the abstract “walls” being put up that has a negative connotation.
The wall resided in the grimace that my face would contort to as I walked through the library.
At this point I was not sure if the wall was good, because I would be more motivated,or bad, because smiling is healthier and less detrimental to my face muscles.
The wall resided in my ability to become a journalist - to walk up to people I have never met, introduce myself, and pry into their unspoken thoughts.
So this wall is a positive thing?
The wall can sometimes come off as bitterness because it once was, but it is no more.
The wall, I have concluded, is neutral. It is a vestige of the maturation that results from accumulated experiences.
So the wall is not equivalent to the complications I had associated it with at the beginning of this article.
Though the towering walls that are Manhattan’s skyscrapers seem to place a sanction on chlorophyll, thereby contributing to city’s lack of green space, these walls do not necessarily block out the sun.
Instead, the darkly tinted glass panels reflect the sunlight down unto the passerby.