Yeah. Again. But with more rules.
400 words max. No minimum. No Sundays. Must have minimum one image. Just made that one up.
I really feel it in my blood to create something. I’m itching to put something out there. Not for recognition but for my own purpose of existence. I want to be seen, heard, and known.
Perhaps this is narcissistic. Perhaps. Perhaps it’s part of being human. Perhaps.
Either way, here I am. Coming back to something I thought I’d never try again lol especially because I took an ungodly number of extra days (75) to complete my last 100-day challenge heehee. I’m thinking of those days I lay in bed about to fall asleep and my eyes shot open as I remembered… 500 words for 100 days…
I found that I didn’t want to write as much because I didn’t want to be too vulnerable as I am working toward being a coach. Which is hilarious because I am all about vulnerability and keeping it real, which is why I want to coach… but I won’t be vulnerable and keep it real because I want to coach. Makes no sense, not even as I wrote that.
But I reached a point of fuck it.
Because if I don’t show up in the world, then what the hell am I doing? Who am I trying to fool? Who am I trying to kid?
I’m me. I do me. That’s all I can do. There’s no image I can put out there that can make me get what I truly want in life.
The only one that can is me. Purely wholly absolutely me.
And this is me. With the sailor’s mouth. And three little tattoos. And a pendulum that doesn’t want to work with me. And a network of people that I fucking love with all of me. And an appreciation for gin and tonic and the occasional beer. A curious mind. A sometimes restless adventure-seeking heart. A penchant for crosswords, Tetris, and sudoku. A knack for connecting with anyone and everyone (that I choose to).
Hungry and MF foolish since day MF one.
I like me. I like who I’ve become. I like my journey. I like my past. I like my present. I like my future. I like all of this. I like Life.
I have nothing to hide. I have no idea where all this is coming from. But it’s here. And so am I. Crap. I’m past my 400 word limit. Happy Wednesday.