As my life has wittled away for the past months, I have seen tears of joy and of pain at the overwhelming feeling of seeing myself through new eyes. Sometimes there comes a point in our life when we are finally acceptant of who we are. Fine with the imperfections, fine with the mistakes, fine with the leaps of overcoming old fears to find new ones. Not everyone will reach that bar with us- and unfortunately most will never find it for themselves. This is not a state of complacency that I am speaking to, where our lives hit a plateau, but rather the calm before the storm where we can see ourselves clearly enough to know where we are going. I am there. I am standing at the door and on the other side are unimaginable fields of opportunities and experiences. So much so that my small frame can barely contain the anticipation of the wait. Waiting develops character. Patience is a virtue. We wait, we wait for the right man, we wait for the right job, we wait for the right sale on those beautiful shoes we are dying for (see post below), we wait to be told what to do, we wait to be told who we are. We wait so much that one day we wake up and realize that we've waited our lives away and we are laying in bed waiting for the day we part from this earth. See waiting is only half the key to identity, action is what makes waiting effective. Like I've always said- potential is just potential (feel free to quote me) but it is true. I don't think it could be more clear than that. Sometimes we have to walk away from potential because it will never reach its full state of glory. Other times, we are the potential thats being walked away from. Its like we lead ourselves to the entrance of our catalyst, we peak in and inspect it, and then walk away satisfied- never knowing what wonders could have arisen had we only been bold enough to get on the catapult and be launched. So we wander through life aimlessly missing catapult after catapult because we don't know who we are. Worse than not knowing who you are, is not knowing how to stand for it. If there is one thing that I refuse to compromise anymore it is myself. I will not make excuses for my convictions or passions. I will not define myself in conjunction to societal expectations for me. Who would I be then? How could I live with a stranger staring back at me in the mirror? I've come to see the full me- tasting the potential of me- moving into kinetic. I cannot be associated with those who cannot do the same. If you cannot be true to yourself how can I expect you to be true to me? Embarrassment is a wasteful emotion- I refuse to engage in such debauchery. I just don't understand it, we've all seen it, some may even be sitting reading these words feeling guilty of it- I like to call it ::drumroll:: The Chameleonaire Syndrome. Yes, chameleon, social chameleons. Those who are what others want them to be- who do what others are doing, say what others are saying, stand for what others are standing for. I feel it only tackily fitting to insert an infamous quote here, "If you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything." If I didn't know who I was, or what I wanted out of life, I would find myself trying to live vicariously through the fantastical illusions of another's livelihood. So it can be safe to say that I am destructively rebellious. A rebel with a severe and sincere cause. Be who you were made to be. This is the person that I've been trying to get back to for years now. I used to ask myself when did I lose my ability to dream, I've answered it- when I started trying to live for another's instead of my own. So I am now on the brink of graduation- 5 years in the making for a degree that identifies me as an expert in all things immoral and corrupt that comprise the interweavings of our rigid and materialized vain society- creating mindless monsters out of 95% of us. Its the miles that end at a stone. A stone that now according to culture will validate anything that comes from my mouth- unfortunately for them I had already appropriated myself of said certification because everything I say has purpose. I mean that in the most unconceited way possible, and by that I mean that I will not waste my life matter on insignificant things. My brain matter on pettiness. Or my words on insufficient calculations of slander. A week and some change is left before I see a day I always dreamed of, and tears come to my eyes when I realize that I have reached that milestone seeing the person I dreamed would cross that stage. The me that was dormant. I only look forward to meet myself again tommorrow, and the day after that, and every day for the rest of my life. Expecting someone to know everything about you is too much of a cross for any human to bear- even you- when you meet a new you everyday. So why not bear it on the only one who can- God. Our miles are painted each in different shades of colors- but our stones serve one purpose- to be stepped on to look out and leap off into the next miles to run through.