In a room full of answers

The library is an amazing place where nearly every question can be answered. The smell of paperback novels, memoirs, historical accounts, and fictitious tales of mystical adventures fill the air. The echoes of faint whispers barely fade out behind the lofty carol of the bells playing down the hall. There is hardly a sign of life, yet in some fashion, every life ever lived is represented with an ISBN. The library is a sanctuary where there are no membership fees, no charge to get in; the only requirement is a thirst for knowledge and a hunger for information. The wifi is free, the seats are comfortable, the heat is on, and the possibilities are endless. It is in the confines of this building that I find myself today looking for clarity.

My mind is hungry, my spirit unsettled, and my direction remains uncertain. There is so much in this world that I desire, but at the core of it all I find myself bumping into the metaphorical wall of questions. What is it that I truly desire in life? Is my quest to discover my calling in life ever going to turn up answers? Is it possible to work a job that I have no desire for while pursuing a life I truly want? These are the questions I find myself asking today (and most days). Why I came to a library to find these answers, I am not quite sure.

I wish I could just turn my thoughts off sometimes. The overclocked PC of a brain I have leads me to a repetitive cycle of frustration fueled by passion. I want to be great at whatever I do, but whatever I do must have a great purpose. The allure of money is not something that gets my heart racing and spurs me to action. Helping someone get through a tough time is something I get excited about. I would rather live a simple life and change lives than make a million dollars. This is where the frustration sets in: the treasures I seek come in the form of riches that have no monetary value. One can not simply pay the bills by making karma deposits and that sucks! Money has never brought me true happiness (not that I have ever had an abundance of it to know). There is great irony in the fact that I recently made the most commission I have ever made at my job, yet feel so disconnected from my purpose.

When I get totally honest with myself, I don’t care about selling you a product. I don’t care if the potential to be a millionaire exists. I find little concern with the tax brackets above me and the amount of commas on your check. I believe in living life with purpose and living on purpose. This is quite the conundrum I find myself in however. Life isn’t fair. Money is a necessity. Being a good person doesn’t pay the bills, and having good intentions doesn’t mean the road to finding the answers is any easier, yet here I am lost in a room full of answers.

Do it for the gram

Hashtag this, like that, upvote, retweet, just give me some digital recognition. This is the mantra by which we live in the digital generation of self seeking gratification. It’s amazing how every moment of life seems to be based around the likes. I speak for myself but I believe it’s a fair assumption that it’s commonplace to say we all walk this same line.

I slowly roll my Nicaraguan cigar methodically above the amber flame of my sulfur emitting match. I’m no aficionado of cigars, but I find myself embedded amongst the mahogany and leather clad cigar bar nestled along Main Street Cartersville. The aroma is reminiscent of old Havana – coincidently in a lounge aptly named after the Cuban city known for the logs of tobacco, classic cars, and fine coffee.

I’ve never been one to smoke cigars but I find it becoming a pastime of mine, and it’s in this moment I find inspiration for this rambling. Is there anything truly pleasant about smoking a cigar? Not really? Yet here I am…taking a picture with the cigar and placing my yeezys in the frame, seeking some sort of validation. Painting an image that I’m far more sophisticated than I really am. It looks cool but honestly I’m nauseous and regretting sucking down the cigar with every passing second.

The moment is symbolic of the trap I try to avoid – seeking validation for the superficial moment a picture portrays. I want to appear cool, but I just feel sick. I regret it, but I hope you like it.

I did it for the gram…like me, please while I go puke.