A Tattooed Reminder
Life is a series of nonsense. Nonsense meaning the encompassing of passion, happiness, utter grief, guilt, etc. I believe there's a spectrum in life much like that of a VU meter or one of those nifty equalizers some stereos have that show the bouncing bars in correspondence to tone. There is not a single time when one of the latter feelings is not present in the spectrum. Sometimes other tones dominate your bouncing bars. And that is your ultimate feeling at the moment. It does not mean that something won't eventually come along a change your tone.
Ever had someone tell you they're worried about you? Most likely you responded with, "Don't worry about me." You never want anyone else to worry about you. What it shows is the other person's bond with you or their yearning to have that sort of bond. It's an attachment issue. How many people actually look in the mirror and worry about themselves? It's rare. Too rare.
You go to work at 8:00am in the morning. College was never your ideal stomping ground and you work a job where you've been apprenticed into a trade. By no means is it a bad thing. The day is filled with back-breaking work and accidents are constantly around every corner. In fact, you've been hurt severely before on the job. Your day ends at 5:00pm. The idea of a place to sit, rest your tired bones, and have a drink is an incentive to finish the day; to continue on. You pull into your driveway, six-pack in hand, and open the door to your house. The only problem is that when you walk in you realize it isn't your incentive. This is not your home. There is no peace and you are made to feel as though those 9 hours weren't worth a dime. And it really isn't because there's bills to pay and mouths to feed. You are made to feel that your beer is in no way the ideal relaxation. Your house is a prison. You are in your own personal hell day in and day out. You don't speak because you've learned that speaking is useless. What's on your mind? What do you feel? Has compassion seeped low beneath your leather skin? Where do you go?
You go fishing.
Ever had someone tell you they're worried about you? Most likely you responded with, "Don't worry about me." You never want anyone else to worry about you. What it shows is the other person's bond with you or their yearning to have that sort of bond. It's an attachment issue. How many people actually look in the mirror and worry about themselves? It's rare. Too rare.
You go to work at 8:00am in the morning. College was never your ideal stomping ground and you work a job where you've been apprenticed into a trade. By no means is it a bad thing. The day is filled with back-breaking work and accidents are constantly around every corner. In fact, you've been hurt severely before on the job. Your day ends at 5:00pm. The idea of a place to sit, rest your tired bones, and have a drink is an incentive to finish the day; to continue on. You pull into your driveway, six-pack in hand, and open the door to your house. The only problem is that when you walk in you realize it isn't your incentive. This is not your home. There is no peace and you are made to feel as though those 9 hours weren't worth a dime. And it really isn't because there's bills to pay and mouths to feed. You are made to feel that your beer is in no way the ideal relaxation. Your house is a prison. You are in your own personal hell day in and day out. You don't speak because you've learned that speaking is useless. What's on your mind? What do you feel? Has compassion seeped low beneath your leather skin? Where do you go?
You go fishing.