The Year of Many Victories

The New Year is already in its second month. That doesn't feel entirely fair to me. I can't be blamed for not making any accomplishments in January, as much of the month was about picking up the slack while my wife recovered from surgery. But I have many goals still burning in my mind like embers.

But after everything I've been through these past many months, I realize I haven't actually gotten to process it all. I haven't really dealt with the stress and crushing disappointments of all the things that have happened to us. Frankly, I feel forgotten. Even when people say kind things or offer prayers or whatever, those sentiments are almost always directed solely at my wife, and not at the both of us. People don't seem to appreciate my perspective, my fears, my hardships. I have been the strong, silent pillar--or at least have tried to be--but there are cracks in the foundation.

The beginning of 2016 marks, for my wife and I, hopefully, a season of healing. After that rest, I will rise. I will advance. And I will achieve. While 2015 was dubbed "The Hardest Year," I have decided that 2016 will be "The Year of Many Victories."

A few of my more recent posts (and by "recent" I mean from 2014, because I have not been the prolific blogger I once was) were about explaining my split focus, compartmentalized by past chapters of my life. "Modes," I call them. Modes of thinking, based on all the unfinished business from the myriad past places I've lived. Each had different goals, different struggles, different rewards. Truman, Bowling Green, Kansas City, St Louis, and so on.

I will be pursuing catharsis in all of those areas. I know I am sounding vague, but it's vague to me, too. How can I accomplish anything if I can't even define the terms of my own victory conditions? Well, that much I at least have listed.

You might consider these goals "New Year's resolutions," I suppose. But there are literally dozens of them. And I have divided them by category, by "modes."

It is my way of reconciling nostalgia with productivity. Above all, however, I seek deliverance from the oppressive feeling of having unfinished business. Every chapter of my life, I didn't so much "move on" as I "escaped." For example, obviously I left KC because I had to, not because I wanted to. I left St. Louis because the place was a Goddamned wasteland of non-opportunity for me, in one of the darkest periods of my life. The Truman chapter has its own set of unresolved issues, but what takes the penis-shaped coconut cream cake is by fucking far Bowling Green State Fucking Unifuckingversity.

In the words of Marsellus Wallace, "You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass." More on that in upcoming posts, but let me tell you I am waging a War of Perception: some of you mother fuckers are still pissing me off, and I am not going to hold my tongue or let it drop, or whatever the fuck other metaphors you want to mix.

You see, this spring will be the 10th Anniversary of me getting the fuck out of Ohio. My dark emotions have not abated in the least. A decade of resentment. By now, neural pathways have been paved in concrete. Something about the tidy number ten makes this year more significant, I think. I won't stop until all of you who have benefited from the disgusting favoritism at BGSU can at least fucking admit it. I promise you, I will explain the "War of Perception" further in the coming months. And I am fucking looking forward to it. But it mainly comes down to shattering the gilded idols in your ivory tower.

What else? On the subject of resolutions and whatnot, I mean. What else?

I have several composition projects related to Truman and BGSU in particular that I aim to complete, or at least make great strides on, by year's end. Lots of projects. I am finally able to breathe a little, and take the time once in a while to actually create. As for Kansas City, I really do want to take a trip like I would have last year, if the shit hadn't hit the proverbial fan.

Man, I have lists upon lists. I have professional development to do, a client base to build, money to chase. I have projects to compose, books to read, games to play, shapes to get back into, friendships to rekindle, and a Halloween party to budget for. Goals. Dreams. Hobbies. A busy year.

Redemption, revenge, reparations, whatever you want to call it.

But talk is cheap. You'll just have to wait and see.

Doubt me. Fine. I deserve that. But I know what you do not.