In order to satiate the body, the mind needs to feel full. The brain needs to be fed new information, to learn fresh details, to chew and churn and break down and digest. Focusing on a man, a guy, a boy is comparable to bingeing on candy, abandoning efforts at good health in favor of the quick fix, the sugar high, and the crash, therefore, always leaves one feeling sick and empty and unfulfilled. Protein, carbs, and fat balanced in small, complementary servings provide just enough fuel to press on, to persevere, to sustain livelihood while maintaining an enviable waistline.
So what is my true sustenance, if not the affirmation of superficially gorgeous men?
Writing songs. Singing. Recording. Learning bass. Playing the organ. Exercising. Driving. Reflecting. Working. Brainstorming. Laughing. Daring to dream even as I continue to age, believing my time in this body, mind, and soul to be of great worth. When I pause from the mindless chaos and contemplate that I create my own meaning, that I attract the good, the bad, and the ugly into my space by virtue of the energy I am putting forth, determination floods my being anew. I could have been born in the most dire of circumstances, facing insurmountable adversity; instead, I have every opportunity within easy access of my greedy fingertips, just waiting for me to be bold enough to reach out and grab it.
Pretentious Indie Song of the Day:
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