Tumblers and onion peels
I sometimes feel as though I'm on fast approach to a short run way without landing gear down. What is it you ask that causes such a recipe for disaster? This goes back to a story about peeling onions and each new layer being more brilliantly ugly than the last, yet beautifully satisfying in its new level of ignorance (or lack of ignorance as it is). And this is the price we pay for knowledge, in that it does not come cleanly.I've been sick like whoa the last couple days. Flu caught me on Saturday and nearly killed me Sunday. I exaggerate a little of course, though the terrible thought of "death by flu" made me more scared of my 100 degree fever than was justly warranted. I'm not usually a baby about such things but I've been going through sort of a "Die Hard" phase lately. I'm harboring deep resentment about the stagnancy of my life. Eat, work, sleep, repeat. I know it's just not living, I realize life as a robot like that is more like death than like life.
And so lying feverish on the couch hallucinating I'm a rope like box with legs and the room is a new style makeshift game of tetris, I may have come to the conclusion that living dangerously would be the new way for me to live. But really who am I kidding I live dangerously all the time. Two creams in my coffee instead of three, it was risky but I did it. Switched brands of toothpaste, they need insurance for my sort of flare. You get what I'm saying.
So along those lines of dangerously peeling onions, I feel like I'm dangerously close to living dangerously. I know I can only circle the runway so many times before I run out of fuel and crash. And what's the worse that could happen? I could die (but personal growth doesn't usually move in that direction). The plane will crash and as I drag my ass away from the wreckage an enormously larger-than-physically-possible fireball engulfs the plane and then sends fiery plumes into the sky. After that I'm free to walk around instead of being cooped up on a plane. I think I got too into the plane thing and I forgot how this analogy effects my life. It's late and I've got a flu to fight.
posted by Rob and Lauren @ 1:55 AM
3 Comments:
You feeling better yet? hope so.. :)
Oh honey, I have been there...
A few little poems for you:
I have seen insanity.
My mind has run to hell and back
I've seen the emptiness
and have lived in its void.
********
Here I am,
going insane.
Hanging on
the edge of a minute
groaping at milliseconds
as atoms file through my closed fingers
like shreds.
And just a closing note from the poet of all poets:
A quality of ignorance,
self-deception may be
necessary to a poet's
survival.
Jim Morrison
Wilderness
Stay strong. ;-)
I like the plane analogy. I don't see you as the type who needs sympathy...you seem more of the type who just needs someone to listen. You don't need advice, but people willingly dole it out to you in hopes of "helping" you to figure things out. I'm pretty sure you're doing a fine job of figuring things out yourself.
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