Sometimes, i wonder what it truly means to be talented.
People throw the word talented around so lightly. They tell me i have a talent for writing, a talent for drawing or whatever, and sometimes, i really don't think i deserve the word. if i truly had talent, why am i only able to churn out half-baked stories, or repetitive, depressing poetry?
Ugh. Hardy-esque. And here i'm doing much the same as he is, with nary a slice of hope peeking through my verses.
Remembering what dr M (not that damn maverick; one a helluva lot more deserving of respect) said about competencies, i think i know myself well enough to accept that i have a competency for language and writing; the question is, how far does it go before it's really talent?
Nothing makes one feel more helpless than having hit rock bottom, and being trapped in a stretch of quicksilver. or worse, a bog. And once you've climbed out of it, you never want to go back there, even if it means you're gonna have to die trying to keep yourself away from there.
So many ways i could've gone wrong. Any one would've left the trail of broken hearts and hope behind, but why one that nearly broke my spirit? Why one that took so much from me only to have me struggle so hard to find it?
Perhaps... as i told the guys... perhaps one doesn't truly know who they are until they've broken themselves (over and over again) and tried to put the pieces back. and continue to look for others to cement the gaps.
Perhaps i'm just one idiot dog out there howling for the moon, all by its lonesome self.
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