The Thereness of There
The Thereness of There
.
((This isn't all organized, and you're starting in the middle with no background. Just that stream of conciousness writing. And I'm not going to ruin it by fixing it. It's more relatable to everyone if I don't. You'll recognize your own parallel Thereness better if I don't fix it.))
.
You just want to be back “home” to Even-Keel. Even-Keel is all you can really hope for. (Especially since I know myself, and I never manage the extra preseverence to get further up to Pretty Darned Good, or THRIVING.) You know there's never “going home again”, like to Mother's Lap Town, Where you don't have to think about doing your hair, because someone else does that. Or the I'm just a kid, I've don't have bills and taxes, and have never heard of retirement, and when those large people talk about Presidential candidates or who shot who and watch the Ball drop and think that Bob Hope is funny, and you're certain you will never be that lame, or that boring, and they seem like Martians - really boring, lame, have-no-fun Martians. Obviously wouldn't know what fun was even if they wanted to have it Martians.
.
You know...when They plan the vacations, run the vacations, sneak out of the hotel early to get in a rationed gas line, or two, so they can get you to the amusement park or historical battlefield, and all you have to do is BE on the vacations, and you have the nerve to even grumble about how early “She's” making you get up, and you're jealous that “They” got the bed and you slept in sleeping bags on the floor. And you're too clueless to even imagine that someone would think that you have “Some Nerve”. And you roll your eyes at them in irritation that you have to “Say Cheese” while sitting on one more cannon, in one more historical fort. (“Just take the damned picture already!”)
.
That-Place. That place that you can never go back to. That-Place that was so good, that you didn't even have to notice then how good it was. My own little, self-absorbed world. My own little self-absorbed, and-sinlessly-so world! The one that was earlier than when They start rattling it, and you're clinging to self-absorption, and They're saying you're not supposed to be that way.
.
I want to be there. I don't have to get back to the bouncing on a lap stage, the totally sinlessly self-absorbed stage. No, I'm not that insistent. I'll settle for “just” the “They're suggesting I'm self-absorbed, but They're so lame and boring that I'm not sure my eyes will stop rolling one day” stage. Yeah, I'm not greedy.... I'll settle for just there. Heck, I might even not grumble the next time they wake me up at 11:45 PM to sit on the floor and watch that stupid ball drop. Isn't that good of me? I feel so warm and generous and proud of myself about that.
.
There. I want to be There. I want to be where I'm not a They.
Just quietly wanting it, not desperately wanting it.
.
(And that's a step up from where I've been.)