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BecomingEver lose sight of yourself.. who you really are? That's what I did recently.. or not so recently depending on how you perceive time. Time is figurative, rushing past for some. Crawling by for others. Controlled by the action or lack of action that is surrounding us at the moment. Anyway, to me it was recently. Maybe to you it was a long time ago. I thought I knew exactly who I was. Who I could trust. What I could expect from the rest of my life. How to choose happiness in spite of the messed up twisted funk that this world has slid into in these modern times. Maybe reality is as figurative as time. Seen differently by every set of eyes that glimpses it. What difference does it make what we call reality anyway. After all, my reality is not yours. Yours is not mine. That may be a good thing. What I do know is .. when you've been knocked down and blinded .. when someone picks up life as you know it and jams it into a giant cosmic blender and sets it to puree .. you can't know what's coming out the other end. Life turns into a twisted macabre maze .. and there's no way to see the other side until you get there. I'd like to say I was knocked down as far as I could be. But, no way do I want to find out that there is a deeper depth somewhere below the regions I've recently visited. A thought like that.. and tempting fate or Satan or whatever other dark forces that help twist the universe, practically daring them to plunge me down there just to prove it exists.. makes my chest feel like concrete. Heavy. Solid. Thick. Basically just bad. But hey.. I'm still here. And if that isn't a bit of proof that God exists... well, it's more proof of His divine aid than I needed anyway. Anyway.. this is my life. It is what I make of it. I'm tired of wallowing in the mires of anguish and pain. Closing off everyone I ever called friend.. 'cept Boo but he's a rare friend, having four feet and all.. Just wanting to be alone, and wanting to die far more often than can be considered healthy. Not wanting to take action to seek death, just wishing it would find me on its own.. that morning would never come. Those days are behind me. They have to be because within them there was no 'forward'. No 'backward' either. . just suffering. And we all need to move forward. Whatever our destination, our destiny, whatever, it is always forward. So wrap it up. Stick a fork in it 'cause it's done. Over. Shake it off like water flying from the streaming coat of wet dog when he shakes .. long hairs stretching out, snapping up and down, shimmering beads flying this way and that, but never back onto the dog. Be the dog. Shake off the nasty. Rise above. Begin anew. Even if it's the hundredth time I've done it. Because what other choice is there? TrackbacksWeblogs that reference this entry
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