Saturday, January 30, 2010

And well this is what we became…. An empty room with no chairs to rest on.

Monday, January 18 made me think twice.

I think it has been far too long since I last met myself. When did I get this busy? When did extraneous things become so important? Four letters and a remixed tune brought me back. And here I am again. I couldn’t find the key for the longest time, and I found I had to break in just to catch a glimpse of what I used to be.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Romping about through invisible snow still leaves me feet soaking wet

Strap them on, the boots for blistery weather. No matter how much you prepare the flurries still seep in, and you find your socks steadily growing damp. So you trek back to the house, change them, and head back out. This time the outcome is the same. The subtle chill in the cracks between your toes brings this to your attention. Again you return and change. By the end, you have found that you have travelled back and sought change more than a dozen times now.

This time you double up, two pairs masterfully attached to your limbs by blue waterproof duct tape. And although this time it takes a little bit longer, after a while, your waterlogged socks make a squishy noise with every step you take. What more will it take? Should I stay inside, ignoring the call of nature? Should I stay in, alone, and sustain myself with a well-built fire? You ponder this for a while with your elbows resting on your knees and your head propped up by your hands as you sit teetering on the edge of your blanket-laden bed.

A knock comes to your door and you think to yourself, “Who else would be out in this weather?” As you make your way across your living room the sunshine peeking in through a crack in the pulled-shut drapes catches your attention. You gently crack the door open and peer outside, the postal man stands on your door step dressed in his finest pair of postal shorts and a short sleeved shirt. He has a bright yellow smiley face pin attached too his lapel. He looks at you bewildered by the presence of your winter clothes layered one upon the other. He chuckles to himself as he informs you kindly that the temperature today is a lovely sun-filled 73 degrees, “and well isn’t it nice?” You play if off of course, informing him that you "just got these and wanted to try them on" because you are ecstatic about an up coming ski trip in a few months. You lied and he believed you.

You have always lied, and for the most part they have always believed you. The truth is you have never set foot outside of your front door. You have never been out in nature, you have never even tried. You have just lied and lied and lied, until you finally believed it yourself. When will you stop? When will you realize the snow had never come and that it has always been a mild 73 degrees? And as this realization sets in you slowly work open the package with no return address that the postman has delivered. You smile to yourself as you pull out a set of flip flops from underneath the packing peanuts. You slip them on and for once in your life you give it a chance. And as you swing the door wide and step outside, you feel truly alive for the first time in your life. And this time, there is no turning back.