Now.

I never know what letters to capitalize in titles. That’s why I’ve defaulted to choosing a single word.

I’ve been undergoing a giant mind shift lately. It’s like I’m cycling between death and beginning again. I’m failing. I’m learning.

The ache in my chest is growth underway.

I look at my blog—my Magnum Opus. I see 1,000 ideas and thoughts and realize that all I want to do is talk and write. I wonder how I can make this profitable because I love it so much that I want to do it and share it always.

Then I realize it’s okay to have a mundane, “unimportant” job.

I hate the current state of labor affairs, but I make okay money doing something that is nominally difficult. More so, the people are what’s difficult. So I can’t complain.

There doesn’t have to be a giant chase.

We want everything right now.

Salaried job. Right now.
Giant house. Right now.
Lose weight. Right now.
Sports car. Right now.
Fame and fortune. Right now.
Friends and romance. Right now.

But what is now?

Now is being okay with the life you have at the moment and living in the moment.

Humans are time travelers. We love to relive the past—at least our own personal pasts. And we love to worry about the future.

Yellowstone could explode at any second. A nuke could strike and burn my shadow into the barren ground below.

Gratitude is the mindfulness of the now.

I’m thankful for my incredible pets. My job is boring, but stable. I no longer own a house, but I am still housed.

I often ask myself what I truly want out of my life. I’m beginning to grow tired of wondering, and I can feel my skin crawling toward change.

I think a lot of people can feel this shift in themselves. But not everyone.

It’s like the next step of human evolution—wanting more out of now.

Does every post require a purpose?

Or am I allowed the messiness of my anonymity?

I should be able to publish thought streams as radio static. Available, but unnecessary.

Not everything has to be optimized and calculated, with proper punctuation and perfect prose.

This is my space where I can write stories, share opinions, weave poetry, and connect with others.

I’m trying to reclaim what makes me happy.

Anyways.

I’ve been tired, naturally. I feel like that’s all I ever am, and maybe will be. It’s scary, but relatively painless.

My wrist has been aching. Should I mention that I broke it before? Very seriously, do the small details matter to strangers?

I’m fat and my back aches.

I’ve had lighter days lately.

In spite of everything that keeps pushing me down.

Keynote: It’s relieving to embarrass yourself.

To wiggle around in public and shake off that energy.

To have a hateful coworker refer to you as Rainbow Brite.

Is that really the worst thing to be called? LOL.

At the end of the day, I don’t really know who I am anymore.

I’m working on figuring that out.

In the meantime, can I just be Katie?