icky sticky

unsticking yourself can be sticky when you're feeling stuck. I feel stuck. there it is. the first step taken with my bubble gum soul. it's hard to move through this feeling. I see the other side. there is a cool breeze blowing, whispering a welcome to me, "come to the other side, you'd feel better once you got here". but here I stand, eyes gazing, mouth agape, stuck. what it is exactly? this feeling. the desire to move mashed up against the overwhelming feeling that I can't. I have a reoccurring dream that I need to run but my legs will only move in slow motion as impending doom races towards me. a failure to survive. a failure to thrive. all I want to do is thrive. to jive walk my way into a room full of awesome. to shine like a light that's been waiting for years to do its thing. building building building...burning bright. I feel like a light bulb left in the dark.

I am my own worst enemy. no one is to blame. chew on that one young lady.

I want the freedom that comes with movement. movement away from the bullshit I've been believing for too long. movement towards the truth that is always humming in my head but is drown out by the cacophony of lies I surround myself with. I need to be able to find peace and quiet inside, even in the middle of a busy street. I need to quit finding excuses, quit laying blame, quit being lame. I want to feel different, be different, act different, live different. I want to do the things I say and say the things I do. I want I want I need I need me me me KABOOOOM!!! destruction. ashes. a seed. some sunlight. some rain. some oxygen... me, still here, still growing, still trying. that's all I can do.