Monday, April 19, 2010
To Wait, To Ramble
I wrote this one about a year ago, and it's surprising how little has changed. I sometimes feel like my whole life is stuck in a state of waiting, though I don't know what for. It all feels temporary. Where I live, where I work, what I like, my friendships... nothing lasts. At least with me. Do you ever feel like you're always waiting for that next big thing that's going to happen to you? Good or bad, you just know... you just know it's coming. Things have been 'even' for a while so something's bound to come along and dash it all up again. Granted, I've not been 'even' for years.
Okay, mindless rambling online done. I'll go do it on my PC now...
The cursor that mocks me, the blank page that screams how hungry it is and needs to be filled, the thoughts that run ajumble in my mind and beg so much to be free… and the only clear thought is that I have nothing to say. So many sounds in my house that weren’t there before, so many voices and needs and exclamations of wanting from me… I ramble on and on about how I can’t ramble, and the irony does not escape me.
I have embraced with cold arms the sensation of a life on hold. I keep breathing, keep doing my job and sleeping when necessary; I’m not yet sedentary, though I’m sure I’m just three steps from catatonic most days.
Waiting is what I do in my spare time, because there is nothing I can do to move things forward. I wait for a call when home, a visit to my desk when at work, but still the news I await does not come; the news that my life has changed forever. I can think of nothing else, and the wait consumes me. I suck at waiting.
Ask anyone who has ever stood in line with me at the grocery store.
Do you ever feel like people are watching you? Not because of how you dress or what you’re buying, but because they are all just playing some part in some social experiment to test the limits of human emotional endurance.
I asked this old lady today if her job had good benefits and if the new socialism of medical health was going to affect her coverage, but she just stared at me blankly. I advised her that watching my every move had to be an incredibly tedious job since I even bore myself, and that if I were her I would invest in a chocolate company.
That’s really the best bet as far as I’m concerned. Women need chocolate once a month and I doubt our cycles are in sync, so I doubt the bottom is falling out of the cocoa peddling market any time soon. She said she was past menopause and never ate chocolate anymore. Her evasiveness of the issue only confirms that she is one of Them.
Are you, too? Do you read my words to analyze how close I am to cracking? Well, grab a stopwatch, pal, ‘cause the end of my rope is in sight and there's no damned knot to hold onto.