Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Tonight after work I felt bad. I found myself in Macy’s searching for something to purchase because temporarily it would have made me feel better. I would have had some new item of clothing to continue to dress up my outward appearance and make that look good even when my inside did not.
I was in Macy’s because I didn’t want to come where I knew I would be by myself. I didn’t want to come home.
Time for me can be dangerous.
I wonder do other people know why I don’t like to sit still. I suppose not because people keep telling me to do so. But I don’t like to be idle. First, because I am by nature involved. I like to be occupied. I like for my mind to be stimulated. I like to create and make and watch things come to fruition. That excites me. It is when I am at my best. Second, it is because when I am not otherwise engaged and have time on my hands I am forced to think about that I am by myself. That is the law of my mind and body. If I stay busy I do not have to dwell on the sad things, those things that make me unhappy. I am too busy doing something that will make me happy, something that I can see, touch, taste, smell, hold and share. In sitting still, I realize how I am still by myself. Those are the two reasons why I don’t like to sit still.
My truth is my truth. I cannot run from it and there are times when I confront it. Other times it is just easier to keep going. It is often hard for me to explain to some people. I wish more of my closest friends would get it, get me even.
It bothers me, even hurts at times, when the people I care about most, who say they care about me – when I speak to them and I don’t think they hear what I am saying. Everyone who tells me don’t worry about it, everyone that tells me that it will come, everyone that says enjoy what I have now while I have it – all of them have had what I want at some stage, point, date or time – they have all experienced the very thing that has and currently eludes me.
The audacity.
How dare someone tell me, the one that has waited in line almost 29 years for something to get over it, or move on, or don’t think about it? Well that is easy for you to say because you already had a chance, a try, a failure, a success, an experience of your own.
I cannot point to one man who has pointed to me and yelled, whispered or signed the words, “I love you.”
You see a rainbow then tell the blind man that he shouldn’t want to see one too. Or tell him that it isn’t all that wonderful. That is easy for a man with vision in his eyes to say. You have seen the beauty for yourself and while you may have even seen the rainbow disappear; the blind man has still seen nothing but darkness.
How dare you discount his desire to see a rainbow, you, you who have opened and closed your eyes again and again? You, who have seen a rainbow. You, who wouldn’t trade that vision for anything else, especially not darkness.
I was in Macy’s because I didn’t want to come where I knew I would be by myself. I didn’t want to come home.
Time for me can be dangerous.
I wonder do other people know why I don’t like to sit still. I suppose not because people keep telling me to do so. But I don’t like to be idle. First, because I am by nature involved. I like to be occupied. I like for my mind to be stimulated. I like to create and make and watch things come to fruition. That excites me. It is when I am at my best. Second, it is because when I am not otherwise engaged and have time on my hands I am forced to think about that I am by myself. That is the law of my mind and body. If I stay busy I do not have to dwell on the sad things, those things that make me unhappy. I am too busy doing something that will make me happy, something that I can see, touch, taste, smell, hold and share. In sitting still, I realize how I am still by myself. Those are the two reasons why I don’t like to sit still.
My truth is my truth. I cannot run from it and there are times when I confront it. Other times it is just easier to keep going. It is often hard for me to explain to some people. I wish more of my closest friends would get it, get me even.
It bothers me, even hurts at times, when the people I care about most, who say they care about me – when I speak to them and I don’t think they hear what I am saying. Everyone who tells me don’t worry about it, everyone that tells me that it will come, everyone that says enjoy what I have now while I have it – all of them have had what I want at some stage, point, date or time – they have all experienced the very thing that has and currently eludes me.
The audacity.
How dare someone tell me, the one that has waited in line almost 29 years for something to get over it, or move on, or don’t think about it? Well that is easy for you to say because you already had a chance, a try, a failure, a success, an experience of your own.
I cannot point to one man who has pointed to me and yelled, whispered or signed the words, “I love you.”
You see a rainbow then tell the blind man that he shouldn’t want to see one too. Or tell him that it isn’t all that wonderful. That is easy for a man with vision in his eyes to say. You have seen the beauty for yourself and while you may have even seen the rainbow disappear; the blind man has still seen nothing but darkness.
How dare you discount his desire to see a rainbow, you, you who have opened and closed your eyes again and again? You, who have seen a rainbow. You, who wouldn’t trade that vision for anything else, especially not darkness.