You've got to be kidding me
Hey there. I've been thinking a lot. It comes with reading a lot. I just craved onion and sausage pizza. Weird.
Anyways, I find myself having to stretch way out of my comfort zone to dance with people. I would rather just sit there the whole time, to be honest. I don't even know why I go. I guess I hope that one day I will marry a dancer. But it's going to be a long, lonely road if I only want to dance with the One. I can't very well figure that out by sitting off to the side, scowling with jealousy.
Have you ever been very passionate about one thing in your life: the one thing that has been your solace in every instance of your life since you can remember, the one thing that can comfort you and ease your stress, the one thing that you can relate to, the one thing you cling to when other people notice it about you? And have you ever had that one thing be taken away from you like a toy that a child should never have had in the first place? That toy was everything to you... it made you happy when you were sad. It let you play with it as much as you want, however you want. You had the power. You had the control and were free to express yourself and you built your entire world, from infanthood, on that one thing; adjusting your life so that you can one day master it. And then Mom comes along, grabs it out of your hand, and slaps you in the face saying, "Bad girl! Don't touch that; you could drop it!" And then you are left alone, sitting, with nothing left. Nothing to fill your hands but tears. Nothing within reach to grasp and cling to; even the most remote subject. No. Mom says you can't play with that yet. Not 'til you're older, at least. You need to be wiser, better, smarter... like your friends. They are the real qualified players of that toy. You are just diddling around, wasting your time. As a result, you are shocked at this and decide that Mom must be right because she's more experienced in life and has probably dealt with this sort of thing before. You thought you knew enough about that toy to be allowed to play with it, but it was instead handed off to a bunch of kids who try to figure it out but can't so they smash it up and break it in utter indifference. All you can do now is accept what has happened and say you tried. And you failed.
Well, that's me as of late. You've got to be kidding me.
Anyways, I find myself having to stretch way out of my comfort zone to dance with people. I would rather just sit there the whole time, to be honest. I don't even know why I go. I guess I hope that one day I will marry a dancer. But it's going to be a long, lonely road if I only want to dance with the One. I can't very well figure that out by sitting off to the side, scowling with jealousy.
Have you ever been very passionate about one thing in your life: the one thing that has been your solace in every instance of your life since you can remember, the one thing that can comfort you and ease your stress, the one thing that you can relate to, the one thing you cling to when other people notice it about you? And have you ever had that one thing be taken away from you like a toy that a child should never have had in the first place? That toy was everything to you... it made you happy when you were sad. It let you play with it as much as you want, however you want. You had the power. You had the control and were free to express yourself and you built your entire world, from infanthood, on that one thing; adjusting your life so that you can one day master it. And then Mom comes along, grabs it out of your hand, and slaps you in the face saying, "Bad girl! Don't touch that; you could drop it!" And then you are left alone, sitting, with nothing left. Nothing to fill your hands but tears. Nothing within reach to grasp and cling to; even the most remote subject. No. Mom says you can't play with that yet. Not 'til you're older, at least. You need to be wiser, better, smarter... like your friends. They are the real qualified players of that toy. You are just diddling around, wasting your time. As a result, you are shocked at this and decide that Mom must be right because she's more experienced in life and has probably dealt with this sort of thing before. You thought you knew enough about that toy to be allowed to play with it, but it was instead handed off to a bunch of kids who try to figure it out but can't so they smash it up and break it in utter indifference. All you can do now is accept what has happened and say you tried. And you failed.
Well, that's me as of late. You've got to be kidding me.