Categories: general-nonsense
Date: 24 March 2010 08:45:28
It's her Jness, that's what they joke, as the "to do list" starts to enslave her, it becomes a yoke, making a mockery of her claims to be free, free to live a life where is she is "saved", and can truly be. She knows it herself, she's running from here to there, she's looking to achieve, too busy to sit and simply share. As she looks out of a window of a train, going from a to b, she looks out at the trees, fields and waves, remembering times when she would wander beside them and simply be. The diary becomes a symbol, of how much she's achieving, and a sign of the confidence gained, since she started believing. Believing she was of worth, believing that she could do "it", whatever "it" was, and that finally she'd made it out of the shit. Yet, those who know and care, they monitor her words on screen, or sit witnessing her furtive glances at the clock, knowing that she's starting to forget where she's been. She's starting to forget the journey, the path that bought her to this place, the principles gained being an "outsider", the things that bought laughter lines to her face. She's running a risk, a risk of heading to burnout, from trying to live it too fast, as she learns to truly strikeout. The words are subtle, with a gentle mocking or mild concern, sometimes they are asides from acquaintences, or from friends who want her to learn. The words come face to face, or by text or facebook, people who feel it is time to speak the truth, because they're unwilling to just stop and look. Look as she learns to fly, and then comes crashing down, look as she learns to swim and then begins to flounder and drown. So what's she going to do?
Stop! No, too much to do that's good.
Slow! Possibly, though this period of manic activity won't last for ever.
Take moments to simply be! Yes, that's it. Within it all she'll take the time to simply be. To get back to engaging in wacky moments of spontinaity.
(Note: this post was inspired by the care of a friend who told me what was what, the gentle moans of a couple of people who would like life to revolve around my diary a little less, the off hand comments of a few people and this post I happened to pick up off Maggi Dawn's, a virtual strangers, blog yesterday which wasn't in any way connected to me but did speak to me quite powerfully).