No More Masks

I want to be fit. I want to be able to run and climb and vault and sweat without it being new, without fighting to continue, without fearing I can't go any longer. I want to know my body, know my limits, know how to transcend them. I'll start how I can but I want to become more intense. I want this.

No more masks, I was told. I see all of these beautiful shells, all of this beautiful skin and find myself wishing it were my own. I change myself to fit into another person's clothes instead of expressing my own wants and desires and potential. I see something I like and I want to consume it, become it. No more.

The answers lie within.

They lie within the queasy, insecure, shaky young woman who writes this blog post, all the while taunting herself with the apparent reality that it will sound foolish to her later. So be it. If she decides to be mean, there is no one to stop her.

It's so important to care about yourself. Why? Well, that depends on your whole belief system, and I won't tell you what to believe. I am suspended in grey, and I can't tell you, from in here, what is important. There isn't anything.

I know what I want, though. I want catalyst. I fear being roughed up but I know how these things go, sometimes. I'm in a trance that is, hopefully, the calm before the storm. It usually doesn't happen overnight, but what is time in this respect? Who is time, and what power does he have, telling fate to hurry up? Fate and time will dance and play with each other, love and hate each other. One cannot be on top.

Now would be the time for my fate to carry me to sleep. They'll embrace as they watch me slumber, discussing my tomorrow.