My Idea

We all know how this goes.

The rose flows its petals upon the worthy, and the rest of us minorities reap the thorns.  Minorly lamenting in a minor key, our hearts skip a beat, throwing off the rhythm of our internal equilibrium.

What does life look like when peace was never an option…?

Star Wars sky stalking, walking the length of dreams jettisoned into space, following a hyperlink to someone else’s page, and envying their life.  It’s like, we’re locked in a closet, and the cracks along the edges of the door are our only connection to outside.  That’s not life- that’s survival.  Previously considered the fittest, because I fit in, but now my accomplishments are full of buts like old trousers with split ends…

This is not the me I had in mind to become.

Instead of feet gleaming in splendor, my shoes have holes in em.  In place of my swirling purple robes, and gilded royal attire, I’m in last week’s undershirt and jeans from five years ago.  And my crown… my crown has been replaced with a tangled encampment of warring hair strands that in no way resembles dignity.

I was dream destined to be a king, and now my inner vision of me matches my outer reality- pauper.  An expendable pawn in the poverty paved arena of a capitalistic society. My idea of me rendered my identity a casualty… because I no longer wanted to be me.

… but what if- what if that idea changed?  If the rain became a parade, and I saw light even in the dark?  If my view of myself wasn’t dwindling flame, but kindling spark?  Healing remarks… what might happen?  If my less was simply the prelude to more, strokes across a vast sea of purpose that I was incapable of truly comprehending, but had the conscious choice to either continue surrendering to or swimming through… A bruise is a reminder that I can endure pain, and a broken leg teaches me that I make what I am- incessantly able, even with a cane.

Scared.  Nervous.  Hesitant.  Concerned that I’m absolutely out of my mind.

Humanity embraces the human concept because it is ordinary, but what if I had found a different kind?  The truly evolved, not from King Kong to King James, but from unstable to internally amazed!  Eternally in faith!  A poem without metaphor or shine to it, just the expression of truth as I have discovered it today!

All birthed from an idea…

Change the idea of myself, and change becomes an idea- a force I can manipulate for my ultimate gain.

This, is my light bulb moment as I sit pondering, homeless, on a corner…

This, is my revolutionary inspiration…

This is me… in more ways than one- My new idea.


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