So here we are. I’ve crash landed onto the incomparable CrackBerry… It feels nice. I am typing like a true 07BritneyBitch… Did Brit have a CrackBerry? I’ll have to ask the sisters (gays).
Ya know, this phone used to be the go to phone for any CEO. It was a major staple for business bros everywhere. Now I, along with maybe 10’s of others on this planet, can truly be the CEO of my own life. And speaking of OWN…
Taking control. Leaping into a heap of faith and seeing which way I fall out. Because I’m going to fall out, boy. Get it? Fall Out Boy. Another ’07 thing. Anyway, I’m obsessed with typing on this thing. The keyboard clicks are real!!! Feels like a clicky good time for my thumbs to click clack and tell good stories.
Because that’s what I was worried about. Forgetting how to tell good stories. Forgetting how to live and be and stand proud as me. Like Ariel in The Little Mermaid, I felt like my voice was being syphened out of me. And The Sea Witch? An underwater monster of just not knowing myself. And its not that I’ve completely lost my sense of self, calm down Sheila, it’s just that I recognized that a large part of my being- my brain space- was spent exhausting itself by poking around different touch screen squares in a tireless pursuit of seeking assurance.
I was living my life as if on a game show where the winner takes home a lifetime supply of validation. And in the end, like Dorothy with the ruby slippers, I had to make the first click into realizing that validation must first come from knowing myself COMPLETELY- and then loving it over the rainbow and back in time for supper.
Day 1: Reigniting hunger.