Constructing confidence.

As I sit here, I wonder if I should even begin to write.

As I sit, I contemplate art, specifically, the interpretation of art.  I think about my day.  I ponder.

And I wonder why I ponder.  Layer after layer, thought builds upon thought, deconstructing previous thought to allow for its creation.  Each moment builds upon itself, lends itself into this new moment, leaving a fingerprint of meaning as it passes.  At this moment, I ponder:  if there is any sort of absolute, all-encompassing constructed "reality," what would it look like?  What would it feel like?  Taste like?  Would it even look, taste, or feel?  I couldn't imagine.  I don't know.

Today, Dennia, the new, and absolutely amazing server Big Boy recently hired, told me she thought I was self-confident. 

I didn't know what to say.

For the first time in a long time, I actually thought I might just be.