I see you in your web
plotting, conniving to deceive
Do you sleep?
Dreaming about the damage effete
Your deviant practice will bring demise
And you will be on the web
All bad things come to an end
And you will be no more
It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop. ~Confucious
What direction is my life going? I aspire to be my best self, but I am not where I should be. Many know early on where their path will lie, but I have not found mine yet. At the age of 57, I continue to search for my best self. I have been in many positions of employment. However, I have not been enriched or happy in any of them. That has been a hard pill to swallow! I am rich with the knowledge of many things and applied them to my life. I share with individuals in need of a resource or a contact.
What I do know about me I am a very creative person never been given the opportunity to showcase mine talent. I have learned from the school of hard knocks that I must advocate, to speak up even if it hurts and to receive feedback from my peers no matter how much it stings. I continue my search for my best self I will keep going…and not stop!
Words are a lens to focus one’s mind.
– Ayn Rand
I think back to when my words flowed, my creative streak was in full gear. My words came through like musical notes on a page to form a beautiful melody. I am in a struggle attempting to create a work of art to keep you awe-struck! Let me know, how I do at the end of this piece.
I don’t know about you, but I find myself questioning my creativity. Where has it gone? I looked forward to writing; I could not get enough of it!
I think I stopped writing when I started working. I spent two years on the unemployed island. It was what I did-It consumed me! The feeling of my fingers as I typed on the keys, the ideas flowing and seeing the finished product created by me. It was nothing like it.
It was what I did to avoid thinking about being jobless. The many job searches and resumes that were sent out. I can not begin to count how many and eventually, I stopped counting. My escape was the writing which kept me from pulling my hair out!
I want it back, that feeling of oneness with ideas and the flow of words.