Real Success

It’s hard to separate the two writings in my journal—one on drinking, and the other on life in general. They are intertwined. Both have formed me. 

The horizon in a God-given dream I had in 2012—it was full of promise. Like in a movie, when at the end the character sees an unknown future in front of him, and as the movie pans out to the credits, his frozen, half-tilted head stares off, as if seeing a twinkle of a glimpse in the distance. 

“When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are—anything your heart desires will come to you.”

Oh, Pinnochio–he desired to be a boy.

I desire to be a more vibrant version of myself. 

I’m getting there, slowly. Today is a stepping stone on a day I’ve walked before. This time though, it is pure with nothing artificial. 

Last time along the way, I’d take an occasional anxiety pill to help me through a restless evening. So far it’s me with nothing added. 

Still, the other journey plays a part in this one. Do I count it a failure to know I put fillers in to make it through the difficult days?  Hardly. 

It was a step on a journey. Some we stumble about until we find our alcohol-free ‘kegs’. Oops, I mean ‘legs’. Apparently the phone in which I type this wants to write the story with words of its own to modify the direction. 

How often do I change it, edit it, take out the things like anxiety pills and such, so my story looks more refined, perhaps acceptable?   Successful without a keg in the middle, or in my case, a cabernet? 

That’s not real. 

Real life has edges that are rough, and sometimes we catch a corner and occasionally bleed. 

Let’s be real here—like Pinnochio real.