Slipping.

I needed a day to get away. Away from my work life that I despise so much. Away from the person I am at work. I try to be as genuine and real as I can but it’s all fake. It drains me and steals away the light inside of me that I would prefer to share with those who I love and care about.

I drove south, out of the city, took a turn west then south again, along a farm road and parked the car in an access point to get into a vacant paddock. Two grain silos sit to my right as my car faces toward the road, pointing directly west. In front of me, I stare past the rolling foothills to the mountains. The range stretching from north to south along the horizon.

The sun is shining, warming my cheeks and face. The air is fresh but not cool. It’s a perfect pairing with the beautiful sunshine. A band of cloud sits above the mountains. Growing as the sun evaporates the snow that fell over the landscape last week. A little taste of what is to come in the coming winter months.

I try to calibrate. The mountains seems to have that power but although I can see them, I’m too far away to truly feel their power. Something has got to change. I need to change something. Dark thoughts have been tapping me on the shoulder offering an easy way out but I always seem to take the difficult route.

No one told me this was going to be so hard. Maybe they did but I just wasn’t listening. I find that I’ve questioned every decision I have made in the past 20 years. I did everything my way. I wish I asked for help or directions.

I’ve been lost for a long time now. Lost in my own thoughts. Stuck in a conversation with myself. Maybe it’s more of a battle than a conversation.

I slowly escape, a little more day by day in to my own world. My memory, especially in the short form also escapes. It makes it hard to evolve when you have to learn things again and again.

When will I find my purpose? How will I find my purpose? I don’t want to dedicate the best of my self to someone I despise. A company I simply don’t want to keep. Creating a product I couldn’t care less about.

Maybe the answer lies in the words I write. The words I can’t seem to formulate in real time. I have tripped over the spoken word my whole life. Stumbling between my thoughts. and what I try to say at the same time. Is that my true handicap?