Not sure

I feel like I'm stumbling while holding something precious in my arms.  Yet I don't know what it is.  And I don't know why I'm stumbling.  I wonder if it's an introspective picture representation of how I'm feeling about my life.  Have I really grown?  Have I developed myself, my life.  How do I do that.  Concentric thoughts mar my conversation; I don't know how to not talk about me.
I'm hoping, wishing, waiting, willing to learn to break out of myself.  I need to focus on others, I need to serve others.  I'm not religious but I feel moved to pray for this.

I'll take the stairs

There is always something to prove.  The second I become complacent in my surroundings I have lost.  I lose the game, I lose the battle.  The constant struggle between what I am and what I know I can be.  I must keep the mindset that there is always something I can do to better myself.  I cannot stop reaching for the top.  Learning to enjoy the journey and be content with my never-ending evolution to become better but not becoming complacent and stalling.  I will never reach the summit, but the summits will reveal to be plateaus and clearings that present a further uphill climb.  Stopping on that plateau will only cause me to become lazy and though I don't intend, I begin to descend.  If I'm not going up, I'm going down.
I severely lack will power, and the thought of climbing can be overwhelming.  But it's not judged by the summits  I have reached, but the steps taken to get me there.  I can take even but just one step up every day.

Writing a letter to you

So we're supposed to be mature about this?  Though thinking about your words, the jr.high school boy wants to point fingers and accuse your words of making circles and containing no reason or message except to lose touch.

Like I'm in the front row of a movie theater featuring your words and I get to run them over the seats of the empty theater, barely seating myself and certainly no reason.

But I'm not mad at you and really not your words now that I have boiled them down to what they really wanted to say.  I get it, all's fair in love and war, and front-rows of movie theaters.  You said let's hang out again, but not make an effort to actually hang out.  I will wait for you to move your pawn first in this game, though I walk miles away from the board.  You know how to reach me.

Remove myself from all line of sight.  In the illusion but not of it.  Bend the light, emotions, feelings, molecules' paths, not consistent with the geography of others' thoughts but in my own plane my own space.

don't forget me

I can't help but return to last night.  He said I was great, there was a connection, but there was nothing more and he wanted to be with me, but as a friend only.  I knew it was coming but was still a blow to my ego.  I am taking to mean that I am not physically attractive enough for him.  I did like him, I was ready to try and date him.  I spoke candidly with him.  I was able to be myself.
Speculation: He may want someone younger, he's only 25.  He called me handsome in emails before meeting.  I'm sure like all other gay men, he wants to date a 6-pack, and fall in love with a strong chest, and of course a tight ass.
He said he didn't want to lose touch but also said new friends are a matter of convenience and not really with whom to make definite plans.  So I resolved to just let him go.  I am walking away and will let it all rest on him. Life still has to happen, and now mine won't include or make efforts.

So my new lesson: to learn to love myself and carry on with out regard to the thoughts I think others have of me.

the end before the beginning

It kind of took the wind out of me.  One of those times when I just wanted to leave and not hear or pretend to be happy about it at all.  What a fool I was.  The signs were all there.  Once again I chose to ignore them.  Believing lies about myself that I tell myself is not a console right now, I can't sink into that line of thought.

Candidly typing: The numbness has set in.  I'm not going to feel for the rest of the night.  Still learning this lesson.

With all my Education

and just put words into poetry and have the goals accomplished and be done with it.  what I'd give to be at my peak for only just a moment, just to understand what I could be, and let the memory inspire me to climb higher.  my stumbling attempts are life.

Continue

My body and mind work in unison to prevent me from being productive.  Last night the party was a flashback to 2005: Pretty people avoiding carbs like the plague.  I think I was the only one who was eating bread.  But I home-made bread.  It was fantastic!  And the food processor was a cinch to use for it!  It whipped that dough into a sticky blob in no time!  Great first experience.
Back to the party.  I know that the Pretties were just as shy of my as I was of them.  They gloated nothing over me except what I allowed them to in my mind.  But speaking from a severe eye-candy point of view, they were pretty; all had tight (douche) shirts on showing off their big, defined arms and chests.  It was a glass menagerie of delectable douchi-ness.
          --> but let me qualify that I don't know them.  They may have been some of the sweetest guys out there who just so happened to look sweet in a tight-fitting shirt.  These are my perceptions of just the light bouncing off them onto my retina.

But I feel like a matured a teeny tiny bit since 2005 (wow, I hope so!).  I was able to relax and have fun.

On to something completely different, I LOVE the Florence + the Machine song "Shake it Out."  L.o.v.e. it.