sink my teeth into the soft flesh
an old journal entry that still resonates
God how I wish I was ruthlessly ambitious.
Vicious with it.
Obsessed with it.
I wish I could sink my teeth and claws into my future and make the fabric of reality rip, tear, and bleed until that future looked exactly how I want it to. Hard work takes blood, sweat, and tears after all. And don’t I want it bad enough to work for it?
But alas.
I wish and want with all my heart, but I am too idle. Too cautious. Too scared to step on toes. To make myself known.
To sacrifice.
To try.
To leap.
To dare.
I tell myself I’m already risking a lot, but I think that’s a lie. It’s not a big risk to take a leap with cushions placed all around you.
I wonder what a middle ground could look like? I’m not one for claws — after all, I just cut my nails. But I do like to sink my teeth into the soft flesh of a peach. Work against the hard crunch of an apple. I could sink my teeth further into the work instead. Press the soft pads of my fingers into the knowledge of the world, the earth. Bare my teeth into a smile and introduce myself.
“What’s in a name?” Juliet asks. I often wonder that too. Opportunity? What’s in my name? Potential? “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” indeed.
