It’s On

The pursuit of excellence in any given field is a highly overrated journey, especially when viewed from the safety of afar. I can utter this with the utmost of authority having pushed myself to the edge in several creative adventures during the course of my lifetime, achieving a modicum of success in most, but not quite reaching the level of freedom I desire ...just yet. Toiling in obscurity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, romantic notions an intermittent caress. The icy grip of being alone, barren of the visceral support you can taste and smell exacts its toll as the closing credits roll by. A weariness without succor suffocates you.
When frustration became unbearable it didn’t matter how loud I gnashed my teeth and wailed to the heavens as no one would hear of my anguish, nor did anyone care, for all I could tell. Striving to find this voice I’d yet to understand -but one I knew intimately- came with a price tag most dear. And despite evidence to the contrary there isn’t a damn thing noble about poverty and its brother companion, starvation. Over the years, my resolve stretched to its limits, contorted and strafed under a crushing pressure, one thing remained consistent -and I’m unable to explain why. The idea of turning back forever eluded my thoughts and while I grappled with a legion of unseen forces who sought to divert due course, my scars only deepened and multiplied; and yet here I am still, the myriad of scars badges of honor, badges that carry dignity and reverence.
When I reach the next pinnacle I will be a man barely recognizable. Ultimately, whom will I have served? It isn’t fanfare or accolades I seek. No, I’m going clear, greeting satisfaction, extracting purpose. But mine is not the victory to savor. I’m giving it all away so others may see and fly; filtering, releasing that which wasn’t mine in its genesis. I gaze upon the heaving, pendulous sea of mediocrity and conformity and my bones grow rictus, my heart singing the body electric. Expectation soars, never once acknowledging doubt nor fear. The challenge I’ve accepted a mortal wound.
When fortune smiles upon me -and it will- these dog days of struggle will take on new meaning, the gift of distance and eroding time. I’m tortured and invisible while the world celebrates in a sea of confetti rage, bathing in champagne’s bubbles and reeking of exotic oils and citrus fragrances, oblivious to the very air I breathe.
I’m finally getting somewhere. I can feel it. And no one knows, and no one cares... just yet.
I’m goin’ down swingin’.