The Jot

Sometimes I look back on my own words and wonder ‘Who is that person?’ I know in the end it is me, and I still remember why I write them. I even still feel what pain or joy I had when I wrote them. I just wonder why it was at that time I was so willing to be forthcoming to not only myself, but to my future self and anyone who might chance on those words as well. It takes a lot of effort not to push that delete button and watch it all disappear as though it wasn’t there, isn’t there. I don’t think I should worry to much on the strangers eyes, it is my own that I hide from the most. It is myself I don’t want to disappoint because I fear I do it enough already.

I know I am at a stage in my life where I am at the brink of something. Whether it is a mountain to climb, or a cliff to fall from I cannot not tell for my eyes can not see through the fog that is the future. Sometimes I wish I could see. Could just peer into the distance so I can know what obstacles I am to face so I may be prepared for them. I am no longer a child, no longer waddling behind in the shadows of those bigger and wiser then I. They had already climbed this mountain and are well set into their paths. There may be a few bumps and valleys, but they have already gone through the troubles I face today. I hope that I can wind up on paths like theirs someday.