Frustration

My brain is like a ball of rubber bands, tightly wound and being bounced all over someone's office, dropped on someone's floor. It's one blow after another--bank fees have me $400 in the whole, people I owe money to threatening to sue, parents overparenting, my job is drying like concrete around my ankles and people with way less talent (but obviously more drive) are getting ahead. These blows that barrage me, have the same timing, swiftness and impact as they have for the past couple years. Maybe I should get better at being hit.

Part of the reason I believe I am this hamster in the spinning wheel when it comes to my career and money is because I mismanage it so. If I appreciated my "things" more, I'd have more things. Karma is this idea that hippies subscribe to, to explain away the mysteries of God. When in fact, some of the most undeserving, selfish people in the world probably have the most.

As someone who bought a house, has a car, closets full of clothes I don't wear and all sorts of unneccessary goods, i can say that one of my main prayers is to decrease my wants and commitments. I didn't appreciate the hassel-freeness of apartment living, having no car and only myself to feed. To be free to move and be inspired again...

Out of all this frustration, the only thing I really think is at the basis of this is...

A need for expression.

Something real and meaningful. Something shouting and ugly. Something bruised yet accepted.