if you were walking down a path, and at the end you fell into a pit
you wouldn't take that path again, would you?
of course you wouldn't
as soon as you climbed your ass out of that pit, you would make a mental note to avoid the path at all costs
BECAUSE AT THE END THERE IS A PIT
why do we do it to ourselves, i will never know
i think secretly, we like it down there in the cold, murky, darkness...
its like a safe place
a womb of familiarity, and in a strange way, comfort.
we have been in that pit before
we know it
we know the score
the protocol...and the rules and what happens next
WE LOVE THE PIT
im fucking sick of the pit
im sick of hitting the bottom, face first and realising, once the cold ground has impacted, that i am once again, in the PIT, meaning that once again, i have taken THAT PATH
Jesus H Christ, how i have not learned by now, or gotten a map and marked out that path, with a thick red marker...totally escapes me.
that PATH must be vanilla scented...with trees growing along it, whos branches are heavy with pizza fruit, flowers of every size, colour and variety...puppies and kitties frolicking...tegan and sara playing in the distance...(obviously on the far end of THE PIT...) I must just get super excited towards the end of the path, when I seem them, and just start running and end up in THE PIT !!!!!!
foiled again...
i just wish, i could reprogram my brain so that i saw the path, and all the lovely things, and then, turned away, down a different one...
but that would just be too easy...its nearly like we have to take the path, and just at the edge of THE PIT...recognise what the fuck we have gotten ourselves into, and back away slowly, before it swollows us up again, and we end up, faceplanted on the bottom.
my hands and nose are cold.
im going to sleep now
more sewing tomorro
and hopefully no PIT
No comments:
Post a Comment