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Growing a Plant

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  • Originally Written: 20-Dec-2019

  • Word Count: ### / ## minutes

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Uhm, what am I writing about?

Oh yeah, space.

Space is what you need to give yourself in order to think about your issues in a way that puts them into context with the world around you. Not everyone has it as hard as you do.

Granted, we all need our space to grow beyond the mistakes that we make for ourselves. But when you uproot a plant and put it into a new environment, you’re going to have to expect some time for readjustment.

That has been the hardest thing for me to come to grips with in my transition to living in San Francisco as what would ultimately be a place that I only thought in my dreams I could live in.

There comes a point in one’s life where you stop willing for the desire to “make it” for whatever that is worth.

Once you’ve decided you’ve made it, that’s when you start to settle. Plants will eventually settle and take root in new environments that they are put into, but holy shit is there one hell of a transition for a gay boy once they come to live in San Francisco.

Life suddenly turns around when you can afford to live in all that allows for a comfortable living, for what have you.

I’m talking Postmates on a weekly basis, at least. Amazon orders up the ass and god forbid any other excuse I’ll make just to avoid having to leave the house when I have to.

It’s hard not to find a beat to life when you expect life to beat to your own drum.

Holy shit, why is this so hard to write? Oh yeah, case in point. I’m frustrated as fuck with myself as a person who frankly doesn’t use what talents they have toward anything but serving myself. It’s self-centered as fuck.

A plant accustomed to living a certain way will continue to produce roots and foster growth toward what would otherwise sustain it.

What I have been coming to grips with over the last few years for myself has been an upheaval in emotion caused by the surprise of living a life that is pretty damn good and I just don’t want to admit it half the time if I can get away with it. There’s always something the matter with something if I can put my own spin to it and everyone knows it.

Frankly I don’t know what to do with so much potential. And that sounds like a great burden to have, but is nonetheless one that troubles me constantly as people remark at how I should be over who I am.

I just want to be appreciated for who I am, without having to put any extra effort into things.

A plant is only given permission to grow in the space it is given. If a plant is moved, it needs to be given time to take root and take up space for itself to stand on its own. What has taken me so long to get to for myself has been admitting frankly life turned up solid for me in a lot of respects and I have just been blind to accepting a lot of it.

It is hard for me to be able to express myself as an individual who identifies as queer within the confines through which I have grown.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for me, life was cut in a way that afforded me to be able to make a lot for myself. I wasn’t ready to accept what I had created for myself, which was a life filled with a lot more conveniences and luxuries than one should be allowed to have and frankly is too much for one person. I think.

I think life has given me something truly beautiful, which is meaning.

I crack up at how silly the statement is to write. But truly. Life doesn’t quite have meaning like it does for me right now.

Meaning I can cackle on the floor with laughter, literally, at how much I have accomplished in getting over my own pride.

Plants just need room to fucking grow, that’s it! Turns out, I’m an orange! No sense in trying to make it matter if you were a grape.

Holy shit has it been hard finding a place out here to settle in and call my own, but if it’s one I get to have then thank you!

When life’s hardest problems come with having to adjust the roomba out from the bathroom mat, there isn’t anything worth complaining about.

I complain so much when I’m really not appreciative of what I have, which is a fucking lot.

It takes away from the work that others have put in to my accomplishments when I stand to complain about what I have.

Case in point, I don’t really know what to say to that.

For once, I’m speechless.

Just kidding.

But I digress.

Or do I always digress? Digress to avoid a point that is being made, which is being right about me.

I will do anything in order to avoid feeling like others are right about me, when there’s no rhyme or reason to it.

It’s annoying to see, but you have to acknowledge what is holding you back in order to find ways to overcome what is otherwise a pretty well-off experience of life. I don’t know what to do with the privilege I once aspired to have and that is not a problem to have by any means, but is one I have had to get present to accepting. At this point, I’d say that it’s not a problem.

Not a problem to have when there are far more serious problems out there.

One that merits attention, mind you. But then is put to rest among the other plants, where they can all get a chance to shine.

We are all the same.