The Brighter the Picture

There are so few people in the world that are in positions of power that don’t deserve multiple punches in the face.

Sure, violence is not the answer, but it seems to be the language they love to speak.

They’re waiting for the right type of people to strike back as more of us fall by being risen against their will.

They will do everything to have more of our blood on their hands while looking like saviors of a dying breed.

Because no amount of money in the world can protect any of them forever.

And speaking of money, it’s a shame how many people are still running around believing that as long as someone’s opinion of them doesn’t affect their bank account, they can do and say whatever they want.

Walking around parading what they earned by investing in everything but empathy, accountability, and morality.

People that would rather watch other people’s pockets instead of their their own mouths until they say the wrong thing to the right one.

And as entertaining as it would be for a silver tongue devil to be shut up with the strength of a Golden Glove, it feels good to be the harbinger of a horror movie created by the rich who think we’re all rooting for them to make it to the end.

Anyone that has and still does can join them.

Because it’s going to be up to the best of us to rewrite the script so that there will be no sequels, no reboots, no reunion specials. No more Jumping the Shark when even their own people want them to be jumped.

And if that does happen, may popcorn be the only thing not on the recall list when it all goes down.

End scene.

I remember the morning.

I was in my room, unemployed and unsure where my next job would be. Turning the TV on hoping for some sort of relief.

There’s no need to explain what happened next, except confusion and uncertainty. Hoping this was somehow stock footage of the last time this happened, until proven otherwise.

Desperate attempts to call or receive calls. Schools closing early. No one to really talk to about what happened or how to even feel.

Expressing deeper feelings weren’t exactly practiced in the family. So at that time, I was not the one to know how to regulate anything that wasn’t positive or joyful for myself or others.

So I was quiet.

Observant of others trying to hold it together, trying to gauge how to express my feelings. Still unsure about how to react, or how to console anyone expressing their anger and confusion, because I didn’t know how to do it for myself.

Maybe I tried, I don’t remember too well.

But I do remember the increase of patriotism. The desire to remain hopeful in the power of humanity that showed up not only after the dust settled. They showed up as it fell.

In a city often known for giving tourists and residents the same loud and abrasive energy, these shouts were different.

Now, they were not only cries for help. There were replies that help was here. It was always there. And if not, it was on the way.

25 years later, and I finally allowed myself feel that repressed sadness, confusion, and fear.

Not that I was incapable all this time, but there is a heavier significance about that day, and the days after.

Maybe because of family ties within the city, or even a family trip to Tower 2 during the summer of 2000, hoping to come back the following year to view and walk into Tower One.

Or maybe because it’s all of that, combined with feeling the collective weight from even the most zany and hilarious friends ready to take arms against those responsible. 

But we all got through it together, in our own ways. No matter how any of us were able to show up or speak up, we had each other then as much as we do now, in a new world that has haunting parallels to this one.

There’s a quote going around from a movie stating “the horrors persist, but so do I.”

Critics and deniers considered, so do we. So does any of us who felt and still feel the pain that day.

And without question, so does New York.

K.P.

How long have you been somewhere that you grew out of before you finally found a way out, or they found a way to get you out?

For reasons that are confidential, I was released for my job on the 21st, a Friday. After nearly three and a half years, my body didn’t fully feel the effects of the loss until Monday.

But after that and other matters were taken care of, I took advantage of the free time to do a lot of cleansing which I either never had the time for, or didn’t make time for.

And when I say cleansing, I don’t just mean in the physical level. There were energies and mentalities that were a mix of non-work related matters, and the fact that I knew in my heart that I had outgrown the place. I wasn’t the only one feeling that way, but that’s their stories to tell.

Options on where to go had been presented in ways that were helpful because of the job. But the work that I have been doing on myself with this blog, various avenues of support from the trustworthy, and just overall not giving up on myself which included allowing myself to rest, all of it is key towards the better place that I always knew I belonged.

Now as I say all of this, there is little to no bad blood with the people there. They had a job to do, and so did I, even on the way out.

The closest I could come to saying anything rude about some members is that I was aware of pending investigations with those unrelated to me and my status. But that’s their fight, that’s their burden, and that’s their karma.

The same could be said for the events leading to my departure. But taking it in stride and with respect for myself and the former associates spoke more about my character than any notes about my time there ever will.

As for what’s next? Something better, something fitting to the decades of creative skills I’ve attained, mixed with the ones that started and rediscovered when this blog began.

There were many good, enjoyable, and educational moments throughout my time with them. But deep inside, I’m sure enough people knew I was meant for more than what the place could, or would have wanted to offer.

It also took me to realize that, as well, and stick with it, as I have in various ways.

Because of that line of thinking, that’s what made me say the following to a friend: “Quitting meant that I found something. Getting fired means that something found me.”

There are ways that can be expanded on on a case-by-case level, but it goes back to what I said before, that another friend even felt glas that I took this transition in stride.

It’s not without the anxieties that can come up and down before the next position. Some of them inspired by those who have their own financial insecurities before harping about my own.

This time, however, feels very different.

This time there’s experience, assurance, and faith that this will be the last time I ever have to face this kind of event. Because before, those 10 months before being hired by this last position, which were also the catalyst for me starting this blog and my mental health journey, I was in search out of desperation. Now there’s a  matter of clarity towards my destination. One that I thought I didn’t deserve or didn’t believe was within reach.

That’s not the case, anymore. I can and will only go up from here.

K.P.

The funniest thing I’ve noticed about my time of not writing as much on here, that I can be in conversations with different people and say things that are reflective of what I’ve said on here, and what deserves to be here in an extensive or basic form.

Here’s one example, stemming from an issue one friend is having about a person they disconnected from, but wishes to reconnect despite having alleged ties to a group that my friend also walked away from.

“We have reached a point of mentality where the less cloudy and negative the analyzation is towards a person, the safer a connection they may be. We don’t deserve to be around idle threats the way we were raised to be “comfortable” with. And the more people like that understand [that] with someone, the wiser they can look by staying away by any means.”

So, even though I may not have been up on updating the blog like I used to, the work is still being done. Not just in myself, but with others that are open to listen and even advise when I need it.

I need to do better with keeping a collection of these type of quotes to help prompt future entries. Not that I don’t have enough to go off of.

K.P.

Last Saturday, August 1st, was the four-year anniversary of this page, and I meant to say something even then.

So, I’m going to make up for it right here by first asking myself a question:

What do I have to show for it?

Given that this October will be 10 years since I first went to any counseling, and still seeing the one that I first met back in 2021, more was done within the past 4 years than I ever could have expected.

In no particular order:

Created my first web series in over a decade that doubles as proof that I may have been quiet, but always paid attention to the toxicity around me, and in me.

Learned emotional regulation that never would have been taught from anyone that proved they were above that.

Completed a Harvard course that made me a better writer, and proved to myself how passionate of a student I can still be. 

Gained respect for asking serious questions towards snap behaviors that I inspired, but may never know the reasons I did.

Helped others understand their own emotions without jeers or deflection that reflected my history of receiving those reactions.

Found better safety in digging deeper into myself, learning more of why other’s instability triggers my own.

Relearned hard lessons on the benefits of a slow burn connection, and to never ignore the red flags waving within them.

Acknowledged the red flags that I also waved, falsely looking at them with red tinted glasses like I did with the others.

And, among other notable facts, most of all…

Successfully recorded a minute and thirty-eight seconds of proof that I was never the crazy one. It’s the most damming of the collection, anyway.

I know this looks similar to highlights on a resume, but too often this is labeled as “doing the work,” so it fits.

It’s going to be interesting to see how certain people or groups will take the news that I’ve been doing this in plain sight for so long. While a handful have done it while I managed the page, it clearly didn’t stop me.

Meanwhile, others will only be able to do so much at the risk of exposing themselves as the inspiration for the inner work that couldn’t stay in forever.

And as much as I’d love the chance to have my experiences lead to a lasting and satisfying career, that’s going to take more than just knowing the right people and submitting the perfect CV.

It’s going to take me putting reclaimed time into sharing details of those mock bullet points.

It’s going to take not getting in my own way any more than I already have.

It’s even going to take reminders that I can still have the type of fun that I’ve been having in-between and during these lessons.

Because it takes a bold and artistic mind to legally fight the way I was meant to. And even with the many that I know that have turned their pain into passion and purpose, no one is going to do it the way I have, and will continue to.

Welcome back, me. That’s going to be some interesting stories to tell tell, just like before.

Kingston Priest