I've come again to the white page to fill it up with words. At this time, there isn't much I have words for, mostly just feelings floating around and making mess inside. It's all very hard to describe.
I recently encountered a new idea of thinking about your thoughts as passengers on a bus. Sometimes, we let those thoughts "drive our bus," even when we know it isn't the best idea. Currently, the feeling driving my bus is something like hope, but worse.
It's not the positive, genuine hope with the silver lining. Instead, I feel like I'm chasing hope, grasping at air, screaming in silence, drowning in the deep feels. One of the ways to switch up the driver, is to acknowledge first, who is in charge? The driver or dispatch? Short answer is... dispatch. The driver merely follows the route and direction given to him or her. It's the big dogs who are really in charge.
False, fleeting, run-away hope seems like it is wearing the pants, but really, that feeling doesn't even have legs. I get to decide who is driving my bus, and you, little feeling, are not helping. You may take your place in the back of the bus, thanks for playing.
Next up? Oh, great. Judgment. Of me. Of others. Second guessing, cycling through the same hypocritical, negative Nancy, compare, contrast, and you're always losing crap that I'd rather not dwell on. Who's next?
Fear. True, paralyzing, numbing, overwhelming fear. Terrifying. Mortifying-- as in, I'd rather be dead than face that--- oh no, no, no, thanks. NOPE. What could be that scary? Possibility.
As in, the possibility that summer might be very, very long in all the wrong ways, or maybe it will be amazing and I'll be on top of it and achieve all my dreams, AND THEN WHAT? OR, maybe, it will be a daily battle clawing through my life. Why does non-structured time have to be so daunting in my life? To be honest, I am terrified of vacation. I don't vacation well.
So, all these random feelings swirling round, it's easy to get lost in a craze of chaos on the bus. I feel like hiding under the seat a lot of the time, instead of facing the road ahead and driving that bus.
There is so much awful out there, it is so simple and easy to lose your way. So easy to stop living and just exist. So easy to be complacent and go-with-the-flow... so, so easy to encompass disappointment. The more I think about the spiral, I think the easier it is to get stuck.
Funny enough, I just realized how completely exhausted I am. These words probably don't make much sense. It's alright, because no one reads them but those crazed bus passengers anyway, and right now, Mr. Sandman's is the next driver...
I recently encountered a new idea of thinking about your thoughts as passengers on a bus. Sometimes, we let those thoughts "drive our bus," even when we know it isn't the best idea. Currently, the feeling driving my bus is something like hope, but worse.
It's not the positive, genuine hope with the silver lining. Instead, I feel like I'm chasing hope, grasping at air, screaming in silence, drowning in the deep feels. One of the ways to switch up the driver, is to acknowledge first, who is in charge? The driver or dispatch? Short answer is... dispatch. The driver merely follows the route and direction given to him or her. It's the big dogs who are really in charge.
False, fleeting, run-away hope seems like it is wearing the pants, but really, that feeling doesn't even have legs. I get to decide who is driving my bus, and you, little feeling, are not helping. You may take your place in the back of the bus, thanks for playing.
Next up? Oh, great. Judgment. Of me. Of others. Second guessing, cycling through the same hypocritical, negative Nancy, compare, contrast, and you're always losing crap that I'd rather not dwell on. Who's next?
Fear. True, paralyzing, numbing, overwhelming fear. Terrifying. Mortifying-- as in, I'd rather be dead than face that--- oh no, no, no, thanks. NOPE. What could be that scary? Possibility.
As in, the possibility that summer might be very, very long in all the wrong ways, or maybe it will be amazing and I'll be on top of it and achieve all my dreams, AND THEN WHAT? OR, maybe, it will be a daily battle clawing through my life. Why does non-structured time have to be so daunting in my life? To be honest, I am terrified of vacation. I don't vacation well.
So, all these random feelings swirling round, it's easy to get lost in a craze of chaos on the bus. I feel like hiding under the seat a lot of the time, instead of facing the road ahead and driving that bus.
There is so much awful out there, it is so simple and easy to lose your way. So easy to stop living and just exist. So easy to be complacent and go-with-the-flow... so, so easy to encompass disappointment. The more I think about the spiral, I think the easier it is to get stuck.
Funny enough, I just realized how completely exhausted I am. These words probably don't make much sense. It's alright, because no one reads them but those crazed bus passengers anyway, and right now, Mr. Sandman's is the next driver...
Comments
Post a Comment