Bragging Rights

Writing your own "About the Author" is really about how well you can play the horn. You are, indeed, 'tooting your own horn' but, as you are expected to write it subjectively, you have to find the right notes; the right things to say.
And I absolutely hate bragging. Strange it is that I felt compelled to add it to the blog then.
I tried to not brag as much as I tried to state the facts... Oddly enough, that is the same reason I cannot retell a story.

Unsaid At Last

So much to say and so little time to say it in. So much that I cannot say; should not say, but must.

Oxymoronic.

So much emotional pain and disappointment.

At the men in my life, who I always looked up to. I am always trying to find role models in those around me. If I could not look up to you, then I looked down on you. Shame on me. Never would I assume that I could be someones role model. How many men looked at me a thought that I was pretty cool and someone they would like to be with; hang out and be friends with? If I met myself I would both like to hang out with me but I would also look down on me. What would cause this conflicted feeling of friendship? Where does that leave me for future friendships?Where does that leave me with my current friendships?

At the women in my life, who I always wanted to be there for me. I am always trying to be some sort of hero to them but secretly looking to find someone to support me. Not hand and foot, but as a support system. All of them have failed me. Shame on me. From the first woman who never met my expectations, to the one who left me before I could experience everything I wanted with her. To the ones who tired of my frailties, stopped loving me, and lead me down a path of self destruction and deniable self worth. What would cause my total self worth to be measured by another? Where does this leave me for future relationships? Where does that leave my with any current ones?

At myself and my life, who I always expected to be greater. I am always trying to create a lasting work to remember. A true piece of art that I can unleash my emotions on. I am failing myself. Shame on me. From the first thing I traced to win an award, I have told that I had talent and should not put it to waste. Waste. Never was my 'talent' measured in the areas of virtuosity, just above par. At seeing my art, I am always plagued by the 'can you draw something for me?' or, most recently, 'do you do tattoo art', 'can you fix this'. What causes this art as design philosophy? Where does that leave my future creations? Where does that leave me as being an artist?

Death. The answer to all those questions is death. Unless I can do something about it. Is it too late for an old dog to learn new tricks? Is it too late to rewire my mind? Am I a Popeye who states that 'I am what I am, and that's all I am...' or can I be someone who is greater?

It is extremely difficult to visualise a self image that would be contrary to a majority of what composes my 'self'. I look up to and respect men or I look down on them. I worship women no matter how much they prove themselves false gods. And I measure myself with the image others have of me, while trying to ruin that image and falsify it.

To the men in my life: I will strive to see you as equals, and deserving of a fair shake.

To the women in my life: I will strive to see you as equals, and take you down from the pedestal.

To myself: I will strive to see you as worthy...

... and fail.