Intersected

My whole blog wins this contest hands down. I am at a kind of negative intersection; a definite crossroads of sorts. I'm swearing off any more grey dull life in service to my obligations. I've sworn off romance, although I'll forgive you if you think it beat me to the punch. I'm jumping off the metaphorical cliff, without any parachute for sure, of any particular color. 

I think selling yourself makes you a commodity, and I'm not willing. I think chasing after authenticity makes you ever more exactly like everyone else. Hell, I think tattoos are branding, in the original sense of that term. 

But I'm a crank, and there's nothing wrong with selling if there's something there on offer. Tatoos look really cool on lots of folks, and even body piercings. And authentic actually works when you make it off someone else's brand. I'm just not that guy.

And there is love. There is good style and bad (I'd look really stupid with a tattoo, not to mention piercings). There is definitely love. There is always work that is worth doing. But it's really hard to know when fear is your ground zero, and passion is what's in check. When responsibility is an excuse to be lazy. When your hormones are guiding your actions. Who your real friends are and aren't. Who you're willing to spend your life on, and who you're not.

“That place where work, love, and life all meet and you wonder, where the hell do I go from here?” I think it's all about learning where the good and proper boundaries are. And then you check for passion's true direction and you let go go go.  That's a lifetime's work right there.

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