A Walking Memoir

There's no easy way to develop yourself that is sustainable outside of the greenhouse you put around yourself to grow. Perhaps a bulky, harsh statement, but it's true. I've spent my time building up to a person who's simply an anxious, vulgar, diluted mess. As hard as I try to pull myself together to be presentable, it's not happening. The Locked Box. What I mean is that my mind works best when it's left alone. Sometimes it works too well. If you listen closely, it's almost like you can hear the cogs clicking and scuffing around and around. As much as I'd like to have the motion stop, to have the noise withdraw for just a few minutes of silence, it's also what helps me to succeed. Most people might find others that motivate them, but I tend to gather inspiration like vintage clothes. I hold onto things until they become worn out, overused, and then I'll repurpose those things into new items - pillows, rags, bandanas, bags. But, I also want to

Many years ago, when I was just a young man, I experienced the first pang of yearning for love. But, as a shy, to-myself-person, I wasn't conditioned to open myself up to another person and allow that level of vulnerability to show. In a sense, I was a clam, holding everything inside at the notion of possible danger. So, to combat the blossoming feelings and the overwhelming sense of defeat I was feeling, I turned to poetry. I turned to the one thing I could rely on to keep a secret that would never be revealed to the light of day. Crushes came, and eventually, they found their way out again. At first, there were a few interests in women, but then it became known to myself that women weren't my sole interest. Of course, some guys have a sexual identity that suddenly springs itself on everyone else before they, themselves, actually become aware of it. Others, they come to know their sexuality and embrace or reject it. I was more of a toss-up than I'd like to admit. While I