The Committee is LOUD!

The committee is loud at the moment. “You’re boring. no skills. nothing interesting.”

I feel like vanilla  ice cream. “Where’s the excitement? The adrenaline? You’re bland.”

At least when I put on that chef’s coat I felt like a bad ass.

When i rode my skateboard I felt like a daredevil. When I was an anarchist I felt like Iwent against the grain.

Come to think of it though, all three of those personas led me back to drugs. Perhaps because I wasn’t being true to myself.

Now don’t get me wrong, I sincerely believed that was who I was at the time. Except for the ever so slight gnawing feeling that maybe I didn’t belong.

Maybe I’m fooling myself. Maybe they’ll see through my performance.

An utter inability to realize who I truly am–that I think is my problem.

Who am I? What am I good at? What sets me apart? What makes me special?

I want to be the best.

I want to start a revolution.

I want to jump out of airplanes and perform in front of large crowds.

I want to write a bestseller.

I want to create street art.

I want to build bicycles or hell I’d even be happy to be an expert in anything interesting.

I feel like  Napolean Dynamite. “I need skills!”  I’d even be down for some nunchuk skills. The fact of the matter is I don’t even know how to spell nunchuk.

What I do know is that if I continue to mess my life up with drugs and alcohol, I will NEVER know how to spell nunchuk.

Because let’s face it, I’m an expert in getting high. Why would I be skilled in anything else.

So it’s time to make a choice.

Would I rather be able to roll a joint single-handedly or learn to play an instrument?

Debate whether coke or meth produces the best euphoria or work towards a skydiving license?

Explain the most efficient way to get residue from a crack stem or write a book about the meaning of life?

Whither away or grow?

Isolate or explore?

Dream or do?

Live or die?

The decision is solely mine.

Oh by the way…nunchuck is spelled N-U-N-C-H-A-K-U