Once upon a time, quite awhile ago, I tried really hard. I put on my best clothes and I went out to the bar, met up with my people, and I put on a show. They all said "hey man, you're great. I appreciate what you're doing here." But honestly, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. You can only try so hard before you reach a point - a y in the road - where you have to make a decision about the sort of man you want to be. It's these choices along the road that stone me and really smack me out of my reverie. These are the times you have to really give your full attention to or you'll find yourself on a lonely desolate stretch of highway and you won't know how you got there. You never know how you got there. People will tell you they do, that they ended up in the ditch they're in because so-and-so crossed them or such-and-such happened, the dice fell harshly for them, or it just wasn't their day
. But in the end - always - it's you're own ditch you're digging. Always. Sometimes you get to help someone else dig their ditch but when you come home at the end of the day there is still your own ditch to get working on.
Not everyone's a hobbiest, though, so some people take it to work with them. Or they take it to their friends, try to delegate and distribute the workload. It doesn't work that way. The dirt, the mud, you have to own it or it owns you. If you can't get comfortable in your own foxhole then where can you be comfortable? Only at the very bottom, when you can't possibly get any lower, hunkered down under your rain slick, in the bottomless pit of self, can you really learn who you are.
I'm no fate monger. I don't buy the theory of predestination. Yet there are some truths that you can dig for but it takes work. It takes effort and perseverance. You need to shovel past the lies and excuses, down past the layers of muck you've piled upon yourself, and just keep on digging. Somewhere, down there, is the truth; as honest as the day you were born.
Some people just aren't cut out for the truth. They know it and they leave the digging to others. They walk around on the surface as if all of life were a hershey kiss - obvious and clear in it's intentions, chocolate. Life is tricky like that; you can fool yourself if you're not careful. Everyone likes chocolate but it's a lie. Onions and gobstoppers, layers upon layers, this is reality. Gotta take the good with the bad, afterall; the bitter with the sweet.