I write to chronicle this bizarre, yet furtively delightful feeling that has taken root in my life as of late.  Although I cannot expect this state of mind and body to persist throughout the rest of my life (but I can hope), I do recognize the ‘taste’ of it, with rather unusual consequences.  Essentially, the feeling is an altogether numbness that bears deep into the empty chasms of inner being.  This chillingly remorseless and focused disposition has rendered me, essentially soulless, and to some extent, devoid of my own humanity.  Albeit I do not consider this pathological as psychopathy, I do feel considerably heedless of all other focuses but the coded objectives of my current existence.  I suppose it is time to take up that nickname that was once ascribed to me, a machine. 

Lately, I have been under particular pressure by peer groups to engage in certain romantic escapades.  At one time it would have been quite appealing to me, but even lately, my desires to step out of the bounds of my assumed calling have been muffled by the grinding gears that have churned incessantly in my heart.  I suppose my sense of relations and desires have been, to some extent, quelled to a new low.  Tastes for food are marked only by necessity for function, and time is merely the carriage by which I pass through my responsibilities for the day. 

The term that I had often thrown about- SSDD, certainly has encompassed my life.  Although, to some degree, I feel little misery in that statement.. perhaps even some contentment in knowing that predictability is progress, and progress has become life.  At times, a re-evaluation of my life’s course is necessary to fully engage the tasks, and the passion of overcoming these previous obstacles is my charge.

However, I do share some reservations as to the outcome of my self-proclaimed warpath to an indefinable victory.  Certainly a healthy and well-balanced life is necessary in terms of what we generally deem a “good life”.  It goes without say that my life is quite obviously unbalanced like a blade with no handle.  I guess I can concede that this stint of unchallenged spirit yearning for achievement will indubitably flicker away.  Nonetheless, my mentor from my past (and continues to serve this role) has given me hope that I can radiate as brightly as he has, even beyond his youth.  He sees himself in me, and I shall see myself as someone like him someday. 

Another concern that must be at hand is that of appropriateness.  I have, through my actions, caused some perceivable heartache in some other persons.  Although I meant no such harm, I realize now that there are hazards by my seemingly reckless dash.  I suppose at times, I should try some tenderness (as suggested by many of my favorite jazz musicians).  It is difficult for me, however, to shed this façade around me, and even more difficult for me to allow someone to draw close.  It is necessary, however, to shed some empathy, share some pain, to best subdue pain.  Not all fire can be fought with fire.  I guess I will have to dig deeper inside to find something of softer nature.

It seems that I write most often when I am upset or frustrated, or perhaps both.  An issue that has been at the heart of my deep consternation is this apprehension of what is to come of me when my time spent here is completed.  I had come to believe that I wanted no part in what I had previously believed was my destiny.  How could I have come to suddenly shatter my own universe and with it all facets of my beliefs and desires?  Perhaps I speak too quickly to say that I had essentially crushed the person I was before and the paradigms I garnered over my time on this misshapen world.  I hadn’t lost myself completely, but I had certainly strayed from the beaten path that this place has seemed to feed us through.  It almost seems as if the destiny I chose upon arrival is one which irrevocably ushered me into my sole purpose of existence and would soon to be met with, my grave.

Then, these desires to break from the common flush me with contempt for that which was, before, my hope and dream.  Not only has it leveled my insight and wrecked my inner peace, but has fostered disdain for my contemporaries.  I openly admit, I am a pariah that had brought this upon myself.  My degeneration is my own undoing and I accept responsibility, yet I find no intention of breaking my habits.  Unfortunately, it leaves me in an extremely vulnerable and depressive position, whereby I confide in no one this broken and volatile character I nurture.  Essentially, I am (and perhaps fear) that I had driven myself to madness, madness over who I am deeply entrenched in my core being.  One should cling to what stability he can, yet I have nothing discernable that I can believe.  For every point, a counterpoint.  Perhaps that makes me much more dangerous, both to myself and to others around me.

So questions remains, why do I choose to carry myself, burdened and all, to new treacherous heights.  I am apprehensive to climb because I am not fully committed, not nearly committed enough to succeed.  I suspect that my choice in this continued trek is one out of spite for the current model I am pursuing.  Questions continue to arise- what then?  And, following that, what then?  I suppose I will continue to plague myself for fear of failure, fear of doubt itself, fear of exposure, and most importantly fear of lost ambition, that will follow me to my grave.  (sigh) I suppose these haunts Ive slathered on myself are for my own good, and conversely to my own demise.   I have my reserves about passing forward into the world of law, but perhaps in my blinded frustration, I can see no other outlet for this meaningless hamster wheel ive been feverishly running.  Tomorrow I hope to gain perspective in these pursuits, which I hope to finally find my way off. 

As with any art form, the practice of written script should be rehearsed on occasion, lest the skill begins to stiffen and our words dull.  As so, I write partly for the sake of practice, and partly as a therapeutic avenue to channel both recurring thoughts and new concerns altogether.  It was some time ago that I realized an unfounded prejudice that deeply entrenched my persona, with a general disdain for certain types of persons.  I say this now as a confession and as a triumphant marker in my gradation from stubbornness and fear (whether the latter bore the former was and remains unknown) to a greater acceptance and perhaps a step towards harmony with my fellow human kind. 

I have spent a significant amount of time conversing with this professor, more so than any previous professor that has captivated me through their knowledge and expertise.  Although many of my undergraduate professors have had an extraordinary impact on shaping the person that I am, I feel that this one has been both one of whom I truly aspire to be like and simultaneously one by which has shattered preconceived notions transpiring from shallow interactions and a general disdain that is at best wrongfully perceived.  And so, I spend what little time I can afford after classes conversing with him regarding the nuances of law, child rearing (it may sound very odd that I mention this, but this is perhaps something that is best left for me to explain in person if one so wishes to know), and overall a fascination of the depths of his charismatic knowledge and deference that is found to be so appealing.  This is perhaps something by which I wish to become through my time in this world- one with such powerful analytical ability and quick wit.  Taken the time I have to write so fondly of this person, I am reminded of my other outstanding characters that have and remains an influence as to who I strive to become.  For one, I have not forgotten the lessons and inspirations retained from my term in DHS, and as so, I remain deeply rooted in the tenacity and ambition that was exemplified by my previous superior.  Although I feel that I slowly am drawing away from that exact person per say, I do understand that the implications for my “apprenticeship” should be bore through another facet in this world.  Chiefly spoken, I remain vigilant in demonstrating steadfastness and drive through some other path in life.  This is my hope, at least. 

Taken the moment to wonder over the scrawl that has been my destiny over the course of merely a year, I can only marvel at the disparities in Redford as I stand today, and Redford as I stood before.  Perhaps my destiny now, something unperceivable and perhaps unacceptable to myself then, was fashioned along the route by tinges characterized by frustrations, fears, but mostly copious realizations of what I truly am when the layers of my self are peeled back.  Undoubtly, the phrase- “an onion, no matter the way you cut it, still stinks” may still apply.  However, I suppose in that situation, I realize that the “stench” is not what was previously thought.  Time permitting, I will eventually come to realize my true constitutional roots and not the branches that spring from them.