Waxing Vainly

Easy isn't suppose to exist and therefore it doesn't. Nothing ever is and nothing ever will be. We all know it or at least the evil realist inside us does. And mine knows good and well that nothing in life is easy and this isn't any different. I expected it, was ready for it, waiting for it even. But not a whole lot prepares you for actually living it. It'd be nice to think I'm invincible, that nothing can phase me, nothing can stop me, and nothing can take my joy, ruin my day, steal my smile. But maybe the one thing all this has taught me is the limit of my own smile, laugh, will, and patience. Perhaps even my foundations. Now that's scary. Foundations. The thing/stuff/substance we're made us. 

I can't really say I know what it is has gotten me here, maybe this, maybe that, maybe nothing, maybe everything, or at this point it could just be the silence. That lack of noise in my life. Who could have thought such a thing could chip away at a person? Maybe in a bizarre way this is an incite into a drama queen's drive to create crisis. Sometimes the lack of it can break you down more than anything else. Or at least that's what it seems to be, but I'm certainly not sympathizing with drama queens. 

Screaming, crying, maybe even laughing is what I want to do. Just have a moment to let it all hang out so to speak. But it's an even more bizarre feeling when you've no energy left to scream, no tears left to cry, and no hazard to fuel a laugh. It's like staring at a reflection of yourself having a break down and seeing a stare instead. A blank, unmoving stare. Like an oil painting from back in the day when smiling was for babies and crazy people. More importantly though I realize that I don't want to scream, cry, or laugh. Somehow the blank has become so much more appealing. 

It's even worse when you can see people needling away at you. Trying or maybe not even trying to chip away at that nice lacquer finish you glazed on to keep the cracks from showing. Funny thing is they think they are doing you some grand favor that you'll thank them for later. Too bad they haven't got a clue and you're probably closer to swinging away at their "matter of fact" face. Or worse they genuinely think they're right which might be even more disconcerting. You'd give them a piece of your mind if it wasn't such a complete waste of time and wasting time requires that energy you haven't got. So you give them bobble-head treatment and get on the next train to "Here We Go Again". 

Sad thing is I know there is no room for any of this now. No one wants to hear it, not even me. I'd rather go to the "Unforeseeable Future" than stick around in "All Too Well Known Present" and the damn train just isn't arriving fast enough. So this is the part where I pop in my headphones, go into cruise control, and let the world figure out how fast it wants to go by my windows. (This is exactly what I intend to do by the way.) And hopefully somewhere in the width of the 2400 songs on my Ipod I will finally arrive, step outside, and the rest will lapse into that infamous "History". Until then I'm going to put faith in the thickness of my privacy glass and pray the gas meter doesn't hit 'E' before the end of it all. So here's to Sade's song "In Another Time" and in the words of Lauren Bacall from the ironically titled movie "To Have and Have Not":

 

"I'd walk if it wasn't for all that water."