Where It All Began…Stuck in the Midwest–Insecurely–Sinking…

There are moments that will forever alter you.  Moments that your mind can never quite erase.  Those moments when spoken aloud don’t make sense to others, but those moments have shaped you.  In some ways they have made you.  You breathe them over and over and over until it feels like they are smothering the life out of you.  You learn to turn them off, just to make it through the day mindlessly.  When your heart and your brain are working collectively and feeling begins to flow over into the living it is there and then those moments are given a name…insecurity.

I remember the very moment when insecurity was breathed into my life.  From that moment on it filtered effortlessly into my being  through a series of successive waves which would further plummet my stock in value of self.  The final blow came and went and I’m not sure if I am changed or not, it will take the better part of the rest of my life to figure it out, until then I will wait.

Life experience, what life experience i ask?  I am a coward not living out any passion stuck in the midwest just dreaming of a different time and place and body.  Subject, am I, to the pitfalls of life, many days I wonder if I am even alive, if this is really living or being or nothing at all or ever forever.

I wonder if others conjure up the same thoughts?  I wonder if we are more interrelated than we can perceive and I wonder if my insecurity keeps me from feeling those around me who are also desperately seeking the words to convey lack of meaning in this living or is all this just in my head or on my heart beating on my sleeve ambiguously? 

If so where do I go from here?  Do I continue to keep seeking that which has no name and no indicative mark to let me know that I have arrived?  Am I looking for a value that is really untold and cannot be measured by how I feel about me?  What is happening to this world and why am I here among these stuck in the midwest, yet somehow loving it, for it’s sense of simplicity and jazz and heart beatings.  Wheat waving back at me in the orange and purple haze of sunset which will be followed up with an encore of stars that are untouched and readily available to the naked eye here in the midwest.

How do I end this, when it wasn’t me who began it at all?  Seriously, all unwritten yet penned before I breathed my first breath of oxygen and trees.  You simply cannot fathom the depth of this mind or heart or extremities nor can I, which renders me stuck in the midwest amongst all my insecurity.

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