Snow Globe

I'm surprised I have lasted this long, 3 years without truly going insane or becoming vastly depressed. It's quite an accomplishment really. To live with my fears and uncertainties, to work to not let them control me. Do you know how hard that is? Day and day out? The people I care about moving on in their lives and I'm stuck behind, like I've failed the 3rd grade again. Out of my control yet caused by my body. Trapped in time, or so it sometimes seems……. More like a snow glob, all pretty and content looking, yet nothing further exists beyond the glass dome other than it's own reflection or mirror of contentment. More of a farce really, than life. Day in and day out the same snow flakes fall, and the same worries go through my head. And than just as they start to settle and you can see clearly again, something comes along to shake it all up. And the flakes swirl around in a frenzy, desperately tiring to find their source of gravity against tides that could only exist inside their word, their snow globe. For in their world there is no center than that of how the outside world places them. Should the powers that be place them upside down, than the flakes will fall but never will they reach the ground, rather the glass ceiling that is their world. Thank god for the reflection, or they would truly go insane. To see the world beyond them? Past the glass where they themselves can not fall? That's too much, better to be set right again, and fall to the ground instead. Where there is order and routine and predictability. Comfortable and content within the farce, the globe. But than as all things living strive to evolve or else become obsolete, so these flakes are daring organizing themselves….

Changes...

For the most part things are going rather well. I really can not complain, which in all honesty is a nice change. But what this time of quietness has brought is self examination. With nothing urgent going on and all systems functioning, I am left to see and try to understand how I feel and how I have changed. I can’t not decide if I like these changes in my personality. I am opinionated, and quick to end the drama and bullshit. I don’t see the point in wasting energy on frivolous crap that has little value or meaning. Life is more important and should not be trivialized into the currant treads and fashions that only serve to detract us from our true nature out of some bizarre need to either conform or be damned. Life’s woes should not be a form of entertainment, yet we are attracted to exactly that, because we fear it happing to ourselves. We thrive on excitement and drama like a drug. And like an addict we will create our own unneeded drama to fill the void until something better and even more horrifying comes along to talk about. Are we that afraid of having our own sense of original thought? That afraid to revel in our own unique selves? To explore our own minds in search of something new to say? I find my self coming off as a self perpetuated moral bitch. And I don’t like it, nor do I understand it. But it is how I have changed with this illness. I didn’t find God, I found myself. And now I have to deal with me.