It has actually been a lot longer than that.
Fuck, this blog site has been up for a whole year and I’m barely putting a real effort into putting up content.
I mean, this could probably go back to when I was a kid and watching my mom cut out all kinds of workout plans and tell me all of her plans of losing weight and getting her life back together.
Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, right?
I wanted to talk about the age old practice of procrastination but I’ll go one better and pull out a much older card on you, and that is, the inevitability of becoming your parents.
Yeah, I went there and when it really starts to sink in a bit… It really starts to suck.
So back to the three weeks that I had initially started out on, it was about two months ago that I had started out on this whole, just “shut the fuck up and do the damn thing” thing. But then somewhere along the way, Father Time reminded me of who I am doomed to become and yada yada yada, three weeks passed and here I am, stuffing my face and feeling pitiful.
Now like I said, and this is just the tip of the iceberg when I mentioned the work that I barely started putting in on my blog. Because, people have been telling me of my writing and all that bullshit since I was younger and whatnot, so I have always wanted to write a book. Honestly at that time of my life, I’m not sure if blogs even existed.
Shit, my kids just showed me what vlog is on youtube a few weeks ago.
I am so scared for the future at times.
But back to my future that is presumedly already made out by my past.
I have been putting off this writing for some time now, I get on my little spurts of being on point and everything is going great, I can pop off and fill up a notebook in one sitting, I was on the editorial staff at St. Phillips, I wrote some papers and poems and shit that got published… then… well… **looks around confused and disoriented**…
I don’t know.
I was always posting really long rants on social media, writing all kinds of journal entries and fucking off in my free time.
Like, I’ve always known that I have wanted to do something along these lines, people who have read what I wrote have always told me that I had something for this craft and yet.
Much like wanting to get back in shape drive.
Not a damn thing.
I mean, at one point of my life I was weighing 250 pounds and got myself down to 180 and I was a mean 180, far that pussy ass 250 I used to be.
That was another thing that when I tell people about, they are shocked and inspired and all that by what I have done.
And at the end of the day, when I take a look at what I have done and what I know I can do, damn man, I am pretty impressed with myself too.
But yet here I am,
FUCK. FUCK. FUCKITY. FUCK FUCK.
A lot of people have reasonable fears, my worst fear, is someday meeting the man I could have been if I would have had a better up bringing or a much better will power to get things done and to see them through.
As the words flow from my fingertips to the computer, I’m starting to realize and maybe it has been here along. But this isn’t about becoming my mom or my procrastination problem.
It’s a problem of stepping up and using what I have.
I read a small story today,
“The Miser and His Gold”
The miser’s a rich dude who sells everything he has for a brick of gold, which he buries in a deep hole in his yard. He doesn’t use it for anything; he just goes to look at it every day.
One day, a thief sees him with his gold and later steals it. When the miser sees the empty hole and cries over his lost riches, his neighbor says to him,”Come again and look at the empty hole, it will do you just as much good as the gold that used to be there.”
It’s funny on how the universe starts to talk to you, first of, I was really kicking myself in the ass about not coming through yet again on changes that I promised myself. Then my wife and I had one of those miraculous marriage arguments that anyone who has been married before knows what I am talking about, well in this argument, she flat out called me out on not following through as well.
Then I came across the story of The Miser and His Gold.
A story about this mother fucker who has a brick of valuable gold just buried in his backyard and is saving it for what???
Just to have someone come and take it?
When I read the story at first, I was pissed. I started thinking, why doesn’t this Miser go and find this fucking thief and get his damn gold back.
But this story is far more intellectual than that.
Why hasn’t the Miser put that gold to use in the first place? Why is he keeping his gold buried in the dirt? Just to go look at it?
Then it snapped for me.
Why am I not using the gifts that the universe has blessed me with? Why do I use them for brief moments in time and then go back and… bury them?
Gold. I have fucking gold and all I am doing is digging it up for a minute and then going right back and burying it.
So in conclusion to this epiphany, this isn’t about being doomed to all I saw as a child or damned to the mistakes of my poor up bringing. This isn’t about the forever problem of procrastination that I always decide to tackle another day.
This is about finding gold in my very own backyard.