I’m a grain of sand on a vast and crowded beach. You walk around and you step on me. You don’t feel me. I’m nothing to you. I go unnoticed for years. When the tide takes me in and carries me away, you won’t see me. You won’t hear me. But one day, when I’m swept away into the vast ocean and I land on a pearl, you’ll want me. You won’t know the amount of times I’ve been buried deep in the sand and forgotten. You won’t know the currents I’ve endured at sea or the miles I’ve traveled. But when I’m on my pearl you’ll want me, but you won’t have me.
Somewhere between dreams and reality
Creative souls are tortured. We have dreams and we are bold; we are imaginative and insightful. Yet the shackles of our social prison bear heavily on us. We are forced to sacrifice any sense of stability for our vision. We travel down unpaved roads. Continue reading
It wasn’t too long ago when it felt like my world was spinning out of control; when the pressures of life turned the mumbo-jumbo in my head into a full fledged jambalaya. It happened when the initial rush of leaving my PhD program subsided and my eyes got tired of staring into the unknown. It happened when I spent two long and lonely months in my apartment updating my resume, filling out endless cover letters, and writing freelance while coming dangerously close to developing a mild case of agoraphobia. It happened when my stint working part time with the Census was over and the reality of my empty piggy bank confronted me; or when I realized I was alone in my journey and
“Standing on a hill in the mountain of dreams, telling myself it’s not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.” – Robert Plant
the problems I would have to solve were my own. I made the decision to leave grad school so I lived with the consequences. Still, the instability I lived under was threatening my sanity. Here I was, in Boston, barely covering rent, without a job, and few friends to turn to. The pressure was slowly building upon me. I wondered, was I heading for a catastrophic collapse?