Truth and Delusion

            I choose to be alone most of the time. I’m struggling with this inner-calling telling me that I’m destined for great things. My ambition feels like an inbred religion, and I’m drunk off its faith. I hardly see anything outside of my personal goals. My son is living with his mother for now, and no matter how I sell it, fatherhood is far easier when done on an Ipad. In short, I have more time to focus completely on myself. That is exactly what I am doing, but it’s driven me to solitude.

            When I came back to Virginia from California, one of the first things I did was turn my son’s room into my personal writing space. It sounds selfish, but I wanted to be near him in my most intimate moments, which happen when I write. This is where I am now, completely retreated into this black back room, where I can be close to my son and fulfill my ambitions.

            These aspirations feel so genuine, that at times they feel like reality. In my heart and mind I am already a successful author. I’m living in my dream home, and my son attends a private school where he plays an instrument and speaks Latin. I donate to charities and movements. I write plays for the local high school, and I’m the face of the new black progressive movement. Did I mention that I’m a dreamer? Well yesterday, while journaling, I realized that I was suffering from delusion. Fantasies have occupied more time in my mind than I’d like to admit, and to combat this, I have moments of complete truth. I am completely objective with myself and tell it like it is. Yesterday, I did this and this is what I came up with. 

            

Fantasizing aside, I’m doing all right for myself. I earn enough money to sustain a small family and we all eat when we want to. I work hard enough to stand out at work, and I am a student. I have to give myself credit, and I need to be more grateful. All of this could be much worse, so I need to be grateful for what I do have. The most chilling conclusion I came to was mind-altering. I accepted that I certainly am delusional, and this delusion is an offspring of my confidence. All of this is truth, but I also accepted that confidence is conducive to success--this too is truth. I began to see a pattern. 

The truth is ubiquitous.

The truth is I’m crazy.

The truth is I’m lazy.

“Underachiever,”

If not a believer,

In the “end.”

            

The truth is, a confident person must carry a level of delusion. That doesn’t make the delusion any less dangerous, but self-made success does require confidence. The truth is, I am afraid I'm doing it all wrong. I should be racing to finish my BA and deciding on where to go to graduate school. I should be looking to settle into my profession and focusing on leading my family. I should just be a man. I should fall in-line, and fully conform. But, I am afraid of that too. I'm afraid of settling into mortgage debt, and "vacations when we can." I'm afraid of living out my days in the reality I see. My fear of remaining who and where I am now, created a desire for change, which subsequently created the confidence that I have thus far labeled delusion. Here is the kicker, fear of the confidence caused me to label it delusion, so fear worked as both a positive and negative force; both creative and destructive. 

Fear led me to awareness of the delusion

And in my search for truth

I found confusion.

So which am I? The confident dreamer walking his relative road to success, or the delusional hipster that needs to grow up? Both have the potential to be, and are some levels of, truth. The Truth is Ubiquitous.

Like a pilot in the cosmos,

I navigate you.

Grateful to be a part of your existence

I drift through you,

With a spirit of persistence,

I have the potential to “do,”

By navigating you,

I can find the moment in truth

Where all of my dreams have come true.