Long time no, err, speak? Write? Whatever.

So I’m officially 75% done with my move to Louisville. The last leg comes tomorrow, in the form of a Uhaul trailer and lots of stairs. Always saving the worst part for last…

As I was laying in bed last night, in a bedroom both unfamiliar and yet known, I began to think. I was reflecting yet again on how much I fear change, how the loose stones beneath my feet make me a weary traveler who would much rather stick close to home than venture out farther. It’s not a new revelation in the slightest. But as I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, I realized that this is the purpose of my journal. A reminder that I sorely needed.

When I started denyingphoenix, I had just begun my life out of college. All of my friends, my girlfriend, etc had moved away. I was alone in a very intimidating adult world. And as I always have, I turned to my writing to save my sanity and carve out even the slightest peace of mind. It is my way of talking to myself to keep company with this oversensitive chump.

As I started writing, things began to change, and I decided to publish everything in the format you see today. But the purpose never wavered: I wanted to document my innate resistance to change. As the about page describes, I’ve always been enthralled with the concept of the Phoenix allegory. The theme of self-immolation for a greater purpose runs universal through my life and my art…yet it is the one thing that I fear above all else. I find change deplorable and unbearable. Thus my struggle with such is documented in these virtual pages.

My life for the past three years, since I started the project, has become relatively and increasingly less clouded by the destructive smoke of upheaval. I transitioned into the working force, into living (essentially) alone, into having no friends within 100 miles. I’ve also begun and mostly finished a physical transformation. Yet on numerous occasions, I’ve thought of abandoning this because of a perceived failure to stick to the original goal. I was convinced that my little world was not changing as much as I was convincing myself it was, thus rendering the concept moot. All the while, though, I failed to realize the bottom line: change is inevitable, and indeed happening consistently through my life.

So as I lay restlessly in bed last night, praying for the sweet embrace of sleep to relieve my worrying mind…I thought yet again of my neglectful writing and the possibility of abandoning this project.

Silly me. It’s times like this in my life that are the exact, expressed purpose of the initial goal of documenting change in life, and my resistance to it.

I have no idea what the next few months have in store for me in a new job, in a new city. Hell, I don’t even know what tomorrow brings. But I do know that I won’t abandon this project, because *that* would be the ultimate failure.