There are times in our lives that we find ourselves unreasonably wishing that we could trade places with someone else, or exchange our problems for another set. Like any other thing in life, wishing isn’t going to make it happen, but that fact won’t stop the longing or the desire. In some cases, those with steel and willpower, and the heart to follow through are able to work and to gain that thing that they want so much in life, or out of life. There are far too many instances, however, that trading things away is not physically possible without the aid of technology not invented yet, or an omnipotent being that is actually capable of 1) acknowledging the problem on an individual basis, one person’s problems against that of five plus billion people on this globe and 2) actually cares enough on an individual basis to actually do something about it. Without bashing anyone’s beliefs, let us all for the moment operate under the premise that new technology and omnipotent entities are unavailable at present.
At times in my life, I would trade this anxiety, paranoia, social ineptitude, depression, and chemical imbalance for practically any other illness or disease. I’ve gotten good use out of my legs, and the other items below the waist aren’t getting any play any more, either. So at times, I find myself believing that I would gladly be paralyzed from the waist down than to spend my whole life opening my mouth at all the wrong times only to say the wrong thing, or the thing guaranteed to annoy and offend. I wish that I was crazy enough for them to commit me to an asylum, so I could get away from this, be drugged into complacency and apathy about the world around me to keep me quiet, and shuffled into a little room with crayons and plenty of paper to record what’s left of my thought and shattered brainwaves for posterity. To be finally free of all of the responsibilities that I’m so not cut out for, and that keep dragging me into the dirt at every opportunity. To crawl away, hide, and eventually die in a place safe from all of the internal horrors that this world causes me. Yes, so now I’ve managed to piss off all of the handicapped people in wheelchairs that who will never have the opportunity to walk again, and who now feel that I’ve picked them out as a problem group, and sold them down the River.
But we don’t get to trade, nor do we get to pick out what our problems will be in life. We roll the dice, hope its not snake eyes, and then turn and try to muddle forward and make the best of it.
So it goes.
4 comments:
I don't enjoy overly sappy, uber-happy posts such as thing. I can't help thinking to myself, "No one can be that cheery!" Too sugary sweet for my taste.
Bice - I hate all this sticky sweet chick flick stuff too. It's enough to make one gag!
Fringes - There is no perfect formula. There are, however, perfectly awful formulas. I just can't keep my foot out of my mouth. I think I was behind the damn door when they handed out the circuit breaker that keeps those random thoughts from exiting directly from the mouth when it isn't socially acceptable.
Add insecurity (current happenings with Sigo are drastically driving this factor through the effing roof) and paranoia, and there's no way to act or react properly, much less give people answers they don't expect. I think, instead of the handicap thing, that I'd be better off with slashed vocal cords and ten fingers shattered beyond repair.
Your Blog - Lurking
Luv ya both.
Michael
Good post.
Thanks Cadee. Glad you got something out of it.
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