BlogMas 2019 Day Six - White Mustang

Hello.

I frequently wonder how did we become immaculate at being silent? Possibilities are an infinitely scary thing. Even scarier, when hidden under silences. Each of us have an array of possibilities of who all we could really be, what all we could really do. All of us, at some point, have abrogated our ideas with the mundane connotation of  'some day'. At the end of every day, we're all that's left with ourselves, with all the eurekas we're hiding in the bookmark bar.

The amount of paper boats which landed in a bin with my eurekas are innumerable. And, I regret being nescient, by not ever caroming them off of people around me. Such as yourself, people aren't the same everyday either. All of us grow by varied degrees everyday - but we do grow. If at all, you can't define what you were in this past year, I'd say you've grown enough to not be boxed in by stiff descriptions. I can say this, for when I look back on the past year, there aren't a lot of things I can denominate myself to. It frightens me, as it fills me with rue. I've met people who've bounced ideas off of me or other people. The funny thing about that is, this is when opinions are at their most sinless. Ideas are harmless; and people will always be honest towards them because unless set into motion, there's nothing threatening about them. Ideas churned with a great amount of external force will always curdle to be something more. Give your ideas some room to grow, and ricochet them off. You never know what a moment's insanity can ignite. Be terrified of what you haven't done with your ideas. Don't be deaf towards the voice in your head. Don't unlearn any of your ideas. Don't some-day them. And I hope you're not in the same boat as me as you read this.

Not going after what I want has made me fearful of answering if I'm living my dream.

Would you become mute too, if you're ever asked if you're living your dream?

More tomorrow. Until then.

Artist: Radio

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,

A.