As I sit here in the living room of my mother and I’s hotel suite, I notice a feeling of desperation creeping up on me. I want attention. I want to be noticed. I want to be more than just another person sitting awake on a Monday night. I’m in Las Vegas: land of inhibition-less sinful pleasure and yet I cannot go and throw caution to the wind. I want to put in the work and practice the patience required to feel good intrinsically rather than enjoy short-lived externally-sourced pleasures.
I could go find someone to give me the attention I crave. It wouldn’t be difficult. I could easily be validated sexually, emotionally or any way I desire to be
…but in the morning I would wake up still feeling desperate for something of substance something pure and something that doesn’t vary with the waves of people coming in and out of the rotating door that has been my life up until now.
I want lasting peace and I’m willing to feel discomfort right now to get it. So, after eating some coconut and a protein bar (random scraps from the week’s purchases), I’m going to head to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day and I’m making strides to make it brighter than today and blinding compared to yesterday.