Wedged in a prison I entered of my own free will, I look around my cell and wonder, in a largely-ignored corner of my mind, why I consistently do this to myself. As the walls close in, reducing my available options with every passing day, I stubbornly refuse to look up. An oubliette’s opening is always at the top, the way you came in the only means of escape. Surrounded by the bones of all my previous failures, I keep my eyes fixed on the floor. “I can make my own way out,” I growl through aching, grinding teeth. “I can do this myself.” The words belie the reality; I’m here, again, because I spoke without thinking, again, leapt before I looked, again. Now I sit here muttering, “I meant to do that,” which nobody ever believes, not even me. The inevitable approaches, openly, with no stealth or camouflage, calmly making its inexorable way towards me. I watch, mutely, as I always have before.
Archive for ‘January, 2012’
Have you ever taken a vacation or a road trip, and it was so awesome you didn’t want it to be over? Did you try to extend it, keep driving around for a while, stay an extra week? Maybe you knew it was time to go home, but you just didn’t want to face it after all the fun you had. Were you in denial about your responsibilities, about the reality that all good things must come to an end?
Have you ever been in a relationship that was great for a while but suddenly turned sour? Did you tell yourself you could work it out, keeping the water swirling around the edge of the drain like a roulette wheel, refusing to let the ball drop?
Have you ever avoided going to the doctor or the dentist even though you knew you needed to?
Have you ever watched a creeping fungus gradually kill a favorite tree?
Have you ever seen the end coming towards you like a heat-seeking missile and told yourself you can dodge it until it runs out of steam and everything will be okay?
Have you ever refused to admit that you’ve failed, you’ve lost, that it’s over and it’s your own fault?