Starving 

I had started volunteering with other creatives for this very reason. The drama and lack of respect for people who actually wanted to accomplish their daily work goals and ever growing lists made me crave the creative community again. The people who all worked towards the same goal. Who were passionate about that goal. Who built each other up and tried to better one another. People who could take creative criticism. None of this gossipy crap. None of this talking crap about each other. People who actually wanted to be there and be proud of their accomplishments. Real team work. 

That’ll never happen though. There are places that feel like they become more and more poisonous every day. “This is a washed up place with washed up people.” An older friend of mine told me once. He was so right. 

This morning, I haven’t slept for over 24 hours. Anxious and angry about it all. This morning I wish I was my cat. Bundled up in my down comfortor and sleeping another 3/4 of my life. I’m exhausted by it. I was never this angry. Never this gossipy. Now, I’m not sure of the monster I feel like becoming. On the sharp edges of my anger there is a bit of sadness. Sadness that things couldn’t be diffrent. This was such a nice town to grow up in. Such a great place to work when I started. Now look what things had become? So much brokenness and petty problems. So much exhausting drama over foolishness. So much tearing each other down. No one to build each other up anymore. The positivity had been sucked out of me, and I was drained to the point of destruction. 

If I stay here, I will starve to death for positivity and authenticity. 

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