cagejam (cagejam) wrote,
cagejam
cagejam





Another chilly morning. It makes it feel so much like autumn- you know the smell, the feel- but I think it’s a facade. I’m at work today, waitressing. Doing it one day a week is so much more palatable, I’m not filled with frustration, I don’t hate every second I’m here. It feels nice- not dreading work. I have a feeling I’ll never dread going to work again. That’s mind-blowing, game-changing stuff. I’ll never make something I hate my career, not now that I know how it feels. How it feels to do what I love. How it feels to make money doing what I love. I could never go back. I’d rather be poor and I mean that. I didn’t start working til I was 18, but I spent the last 7 years wishing my time away. Wishing the hours down the drain. The effects were palatable. I could feel my soul cracking under the weight, my inspiration draining from my body. I want to hold my past self, caress her, love her. Making promises to yourself is sacred. The reality I’ve created is one that makes me feel excited. Excited to wake up, excited for the future, excited to learn. We only live once (as ourselves) and I am tapping into my teenage self for motivation to remember this. She was fine with nothing, so long as she had herself. She would never have compromised her happiness for security. I will not compromise my happiness for security. Growing up my parents both worked and we were still below the poverty line. My child won’t suffer for this choice. I am divinely cared for. I want and need for nothing. If I had to choose, I’d rather give my child a whole version of myself than a broken mother with extra cash. But I have a feeling money won’t be a worry of mine for long. I believe it. I am watching myself manifest my dreams and it brings tears to my eyes. I’m happy I didn’t waste any more time. It can be done, it just takes doing it. Some days I have to trade relaxation for study. I have to trade mindlessness for focus. I have to trade boredom for planning. It’s a fair trade, I ask only of myself what I know I can provide. I am lucky and I am blessed, but nothing has been handed to me. I’ve taken leap after leap this year- deeper and deeper into the unknown. I sacrifice living in a nice home or apartment for one that I can afford. I make the most of it. I drive an old car to avoid payments. These potential luxuries would make my life somewhat easier but better? No. At what cost? I don’t wanna work just to buy or pay for things I don’t need (things I’ve never had.) I was thinking of the days and nights we’d spend taking psychedelics, carefree with nowhere to be. I think of who I was and how she was so cool. And that leads me to....what would come next? I feel as though having a career or at least a means of money that inspires me is the rational next step. Having multiple sources of income or whatever, but certainly not selling my soul for a paycheck. She would never settle. I owe her one, two? Three. In the blink of an eye everything has changed and I refuse to accept less than I WANT. Because if I want it, I deserve it. So it is. So it is mine.
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