The Awakening

A ponderous refection waxing philosophic about our world.

I often feel we live midst a self-immolated utterly hostile world. Resignation cancer slowly digests belief in the decency of humans. All of us. My belief ebbs and flows daily. Clinging tenuously to hope all the while feeling an evil foreboding stomp on my painful fingertip optimist's grasp, directs hurtling toward the reality ground. After I pull myself out of my crater, I'm angry with myself for my optimism transmogrifying into skepticism. That's a slippery slope, ending at cynic. But I feel my abhorrent drifting through a fiendish sticky oily tasting venomous cloud. I'm loathe to go there. I'm fogged in, searching in vain for my way out. My prize is how I feel. Empty. Emotionally drained. This is not who I am, or what I believe. I long to feel the good stuff only. All the time. Yet, uncharted terrain and unseen waters fall away before me, luring me into a false sense of secure hope. Answers await my picking them like a ripened dandelion. Always just ahead. As if the earth is flat, and I can sail up to its edge, absorb comforting wisdom, and relish my satiated addiction.

Author's Note

I spontaneously had an emotional flash, no more than a moment. It filled me. I am writing it away.

Reviews

[jennifer little]

great work keep it up

[J.M. Walker]

WOW! i reall love this: "I long to feel the good stuff only. All the time." somehow because this thought is broken into two phrases, it really makes me understand your though better. The pause indicated by the period gives a short impression of hesitation, or indecisivenesss about your feeling. Yet at the same time the words "All the time." solidify and decisively make your point. It concretizes your feeling and your intentions. I really like how you wrote that thought! great stuff