Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Saturday

The day dawned, not with hope and promise, but with annoyance and intrusion.  And far earlier than a Saturday should.  This week has been trying, to say the least, and i seek refuge and solitude to recover in.  A dark, cool, quiet place where there is no hustle or hurry or commotion or explosion of activity and obligation!

 I long for the soft, familar corridors of the safehouse, where everything is full of love and hope.  And even the trials are uplifting in a sense, for they draw friends and loved ones together, strengthen the bonds between them, and give the opportunity to shine forth one's natural giftedness.  The peacful night is lit by the gentle moonlight and sweet breezes, the playful day is painted with the lush, healing green of the flora of the forest and the garden by the house.  Work is enjoyable, friends are family, and everything is just right.  Not perfect.  But right.

The sweltering sun melts my resolve, weakens my breath (literally, in this case!), and burns my hopes.  The cool air teases and taunts, then slips away to places unknown.  Day after day is invaded by too many people, too many duties, too many interactions.  They complicate their own lives, and mine too, by their stupid choices.  In so many, many ways.  A victim of others' crimes, disorder, malcontent, type-A syndromes, idiocy, ignorance, and lack of consideration, i am affected greatly and thus punished.  For existing in their world and not fitting in.  For being different.  For having my own, unique (!) motives and intentions.  The shell crumbles around me, not by my own choice, but by their decisions, and i am thrust into their sweltering, blinding, tiring world. 

Bug off, world.  I don't want to be like you.  Don't take it personally.  Okay, do.  Take care, I'll see you around.  Just not too soon.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Why is it that...

my favorite places to be are imaginary?  Sometimes this is a blessing; imaginary places can go with you anywhere and be accessed anytime, so long as you can steal a moment to think.  But sometimes the real world seems so empty, and you long for something tangible, and that's when it hurts. But still, my favorite places are beautiful.