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I'm still standin...yeah yeah yeah
Oct. 16th, 2009 10:52 amI'm almost feeling better, but a few germs are still clinging desperately to my respiratory system, refusing to acknowledge the incendiary eviction notices I've been sending.
Part of me feels old and tired and weary thanks to this. It's this part that wonders why I can't just hand over the reins to someone else and let them run my life for a bit. It's this part that makes me question if being alone and struggling is all my life will amount to. It's this part that makes me wonder why everyone seems so much better off than I am.
But at the sound of these thoughts, another part of myself starts to stir. A part that's been lying dormant the last week or so. It rises and smacks its sibling across the face, leaving a scorching red handprint.
I wish I better understood where this fiesty inner warrior comes from, and why it takes issue with me rolling over and playing dead. If I did, maybe I could harness her energy more often. But she's kind of illusive. And not very conversational.
Regardless, I appreciate her and the way she helps me put things into perspective whenever I reach a point where I just want to give up. She reminds me that there must be some sort of point to my existence -- I mean, I'm still standing after 20 years under my mother's chaotic roof, right? Surely that's gotta mean something!
I guess I just have to accept that now more than ever the path is never gonna be clear and easy. It's not like I've historically had any reason to believe otherwise.
Part of me feels old and tired and weary thanks to this. It's this part that wonders why I can't just hand over the reins to someone else and let them run my life for a bit. It's this part that makes me question if being alone and struggling is all my life will amount to. It's this part that makes me wonder why everyone seems so much better off than I am.
But at the sound of these thoughts, another part of myself starts to stir. A part that's been lying dormant the last week or so. It rises and smacks its sibling across the face, leaving a scorching red handprint.
I wish I better understood where this fiesty inner warrior comes from, and why it takes issue with me rolling over and playing dead. If I did, maybe I could harness her energy more often. But she's kind of illusive. And not very conversational.
Regardless, I appreciate her and the way she helps me put things into perspective whenever I reach a point where I just want to give up. She reminds me that there must be some sort of point to my existence -- I mean, I'm still standing after 20 years under my mother's chaotic roof, right? Surely that's gotta mean something!
I guess I just have to accept that now more than ever the path is never gonna be clear and easy. It's not like I've historically had any reason to believe otherwise.
