Trying To Gain Some Composure

The sun was beaming as we arrived at the outdoor BBQ. It was one of those picturesque summer afternoons, with a gentle breeze rustling through the trees and the scent of smoky grilled meats filling the air. The park was bustling with life; children laughing and playing, couples strolling hand-in-hand, and families gathered around picnic tables laden with an array of colorful dishes. Storm had invited us to join him and his family at this idyllic gathering, somewhere deep in the heart of Jersey. I had been eager to accept the invitation, desperate for any opportunity to stay close to my mentor and to escape the emotional turmoil I had been experiencing as of late. As I stood there in the park, surrounded by the lively atmosphere and cheerful conversations, I found it increasingly difficult to hide the fact that I was emotionally drained. My heart felt heavy, and every fiber of my being ached with the effort of maintaining a facade of happiness. I plastered a smile on my face, forcing myself to engage in small talk, all the while feeling like a marionette with strings pulled taut, dancing to the tune of someone else’s whims. The grass beneath my feet felt cool and damp, a stark contrast to the burning shame and disappointment that had been festering inside me since the release of “Free The Goat.” I couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to me like a dark, suffocating cloud, threatening to choke the life out of any semblance of joy I might have found in this otherwise perfect setting. As the evening wore on, I found myself retreating to the outskirts of the gathering. In the distance, I observed the setting sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park. As the darkness slowly enveloped the scene, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of kinship with the fading light. Just like the sun, I too had been swallowed by the darkness, consumed by my own fears and insecurities. But as I stood there, I realized that just as the sun would rise again the following morning, so too could I rise above my own darkness.