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A lot can happen in a year.

August marks one year of drastic changes to my world. I’ve found myself finally being able to break free of the bonds of frustration, anger, depression, aggravation, and other associated emotions to the changes.

I look back one year ago and I can’t help but see a screeching halt in my self-worth. I was not progressing myself forward, but coasting. I was not pressing towards goals, just surviving. I look back to see that everything within a year crumbled from my hands and disintegrated to nothing but a fine powder that was to wisp away in the air without further thought.

Even before that last year, I could feel a decent into a state of mental limbo. This was large in part due to some personal stresses in my life which overflowed into my professional life. From there, my performances were not up to even my expectations. Since then, the requested help, assistance, acting gigs, productions seemed to halt with it. I look back at my latest “big” performance and even question why I was making the choices I did, however, the director didn’t rake me over the coals for being foolish, so he must have seen the residue of my intentions.

While I’ve had the opportunity to help friends out with various productions and they even tossed a part or two my way, I find that I’ve drifted in a manner which saddens me. On top of the sad sinking feeling, I grew angry that I was allowing this to happen. Then remorseful and overwhelmed set in as I involved a lot more in my personal life that just seemed to cripple what I wanted to do or how I wanted to grow.

I now climb out of a massive heap of rubble. I see fragments of images, shattered and barely resembling what it used to hold. I see shattered picture frames of better times buried beneath what could only be described as a bitter inexplicable level of neglect out of unforgivable aggression. I see fallen masquerading masks rest upon the debris as friends have removed them to reveal their intentions; for better or worse. Even mirrored fragments in the dirt reflect a face that I’m growing to know but not fully understand yet.

I see shreds of my ideas within arm’s reach as I press all my weight forward to remove rubble created by the neglect and malicious attitudes that erupted without any thought to the aftermath. They feel inspiring to see, even if the pieces aren’t all together or jumbled. It’s making sense and bringing back memories. Ones that are met with a sense of accomplishment, excitement, and… fun.

As I emerge from the collapsed heap of maltreatment, it’s awkward to feel fresh air tingle throughout my lungs. The crisp rejuvenating breeze brings an unfamiliar smile as I begin to collect the important pieces from the wreckage beneath me. As my hand recaptures the fragmented ideas, my mind seems to energize as it refreshes the feelings associated with the excitement originally captured in the concept. I begin to follow a breadcrumb trail of these shimmering relics, curious where they lead.

The draining wave of heat beats down, staggering my efforts to reach my destination. The ever intruding view of binary code fills the mind as it battles for dominance with the creative swirls of imagination. The only thing to reinforce the battle is the scattered pieces of concepts thrown askew in this world. Each step closer to the goal makes my feet feel lighter; my body begins to feel less sluggish as the ruins that were begin to mend itself into better creations.

While the journey that was is now inaccessible, I see bridges forming themselves, layering brick by brick gradually, allowing for new paths to open as my search continues. The road even appears to balance out, making the trek easier than before. The reality of control is beginning to set in.

I see friends’ faces warming up once more as we walk for portions of the path. My eyes absorb the battle scars that they have taken either from this collision or past experiences. While battling remorse for pain that came from my wreckage, my will is eager to help. Aiding, patching, fixing their portion of the world along the path. Exchanges of warm conversations, laughter, and dreams lighten the burden of the once beating sun.

I turn on my heels to take one last look upon the painted world behind me. My head shifts from carnage torn pieces of the path to serene, healed areas that contrast the world. It is enlightening to be able to learn what has to be learned from this experience; one that should not be forgotten as it were. I look to my feet to see a fedora lay battered upon the ground. My hands can feel the felt handiwork eagerly snap to its proper form. I return to my travels now. The company of friends, the inspirations of dreams, and the sense of much needed control returning to my grasp.

This will be exciting.