bite marks

I have reluctantly come to the conclusion in the past few years that my education and experience will do nothing for me because I don’t “know a guy”. Going off of sheer ability isn’t as common these days, not in such an intensely focused consumer driven product obsessed culture, where quality is surpassed by accessibility and instant gratification as a general priority.

I am not accessible. I am not driven to expose myself because I am not a product. I resigned myself, seemingly, from the idea of ever writing professionally because no matter how much or why it means so much to me, I am sleeping better at night keeping a few people a little more sure about today and tomorrow (and all the fuckery in-between) than I think I would be, trying to balance pitch sales and product output quotas to reach masses in some diluted, contrived shadow of myself. This sounds insanely circular to me right now but I am confused about what my priorities are, and i am questioning my own idea of courage, if i am being handed everything I ever wanted and being given extraordinary opportunities, and am walking away without hesitation.

Maybe it isn’t the right time, but the simple truth here is that I’m scared. Its one thing to mull things over in type on public forum but completely another to expose myself in a setting where I don’t trust my mouth not to betray me. My secrets have never been good at herding themselves on the right side of a set of pursed lips but willingly splaying myself open to comfort and confuse any possible amount of hopeful or hopeless people? It sounds beautiful and insane and terrifying and necessary.

I am undecided.

Ie I’m a puuuusssssssyyyyyy

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