Threads
There are pieces of lives mixed up with mine. Baubles, images, odds and ends, each carrying with it an echo, a ghost of something long lost, almost forgotten, irretrievable. As I move through my life, trying to simplify, organize, clean up, I find them. I pick up something lying about, ignored, unimportant, ready to get rid of it, only to find that it pulls on a thread in my heart. It is tangled in with me in some way I hardly knew.
The wisdom of the world tells me to simplify, to organize. It offers plans and blue prints to reach some categorized framework of happiness. But I find myself with a tangled tapestry, woven of threads not entirely mine, stretched over a support not nearly so neat and square as that built by those promised by pundits and psychologists. Its threads are worn in spots, thier color faded, the images they create barely decipherable in spots. Yet the knots are hard to untie.
There are too many lives tangled up here. Too many ghosts clinging to their connections.
Sometimes as I stand here, fingers bleeding from the attemtps to untangle all those lives and find what is supposedly "mine," I find myself laughing, tears running down my cheeks, as I see you all watching, holding the threads of my life in ghostly fingers.
The wisdom of the world tells me to simplify, to organize. It offers plans and blue prints to reach some categorized framework of happiness. But I find myself with a tangled tapestry, woven of threads not entirely mine, stretched over a support not nearly so neat and square as that built by those promised by pundits and psychologists. Its threads are worn in spots, thier color faded, the images they create barely decipherable in spots. Yet the knots are hard to untie.
There are too many lives tangled up here. Too many ghosts clinging to their connections.
Sometimes as I stand here, fingers bleeding from the attemtps to untangle all those lives and find what is supposedly "mine," I find myself laughing, tears running down my cheeks, as I see you all watching, holding the threads of my life in ghostly fingers.