Life has a way of making you dwell on things you want to forget. Dragging your thoughts and feelings into the pull of your personal black hole: the moments that weigh you down and bend space and time around a knot of gravity to the make them the centre of the universe, and in which you can disappear, never to be seen again.
Just as I find myself looking forward to a way of life that sets me free from past choices, past mistakes and general apathy in my attention to the pathway of life, I find I have doubled back, taken the wrong turn, read the map upside down, and here I am again.
No wiser it would appear, no more controlled, or settled, but actually back here re-living the moment as my blood boils, the acid of shame in my gut burns, and the frustration in my shoulders aches as I push against the stone of Sisyphus.
I feel the need to rage, to scream, but now this is all the more absurd as the context is there only in my head - and my need to vent can only be pushed onto an otherwise benign world. So I am forced to restrain, to dissemble, to drown out the drums in my head with chatter, with banality. I pump it into my work, in pen, in paint, in words, in daft hopes and dreams - anywhere, anyhow.
Then as I pump, as I write this outpouring, I find that I am able to drift out of the eye - that the force of gravity no longer pulls at me. As I return to the present I see the anger and the embarrassment is anchored to then, to the past, and is sucked down by the great chain into the dark mass that gnaws at the essence of who I am.
A lightness comes over me as I remain in stasis - outside the drag, but not yet in control of my movements. Although I welcome its departure I have no real sense of closure on the past, that is something I will need to address, but for now I will focus on my present, my achievement, and begin to kick some direction, to pull myself to who I am.