Hibernating Life

I have been quiet lately, more quiet than normal. Reflective and reserved. Lost in thoughts to the point of inaction. It’s like I am lying dormant beneath a winter season waiting for my Spring to come. Warmth to reawaken my frozen state and give me life again. I am tired, tired of laying in darkness cold and unprosperous. Somewhere along the way my attempt to go with the flow lead to burrowing down and letting life flow above me unbothered and disassociated. Existing only and not participating. I am not afraid, not paralyzed with fear, I am weary and tired from a world that never gives back all that it takes. I am disinterested in pouring from myself until I am empty surrounded by people with cups held out for me to replenish. Who will pour into my cup when it is empty and I haven’t the strength to refill it on my own?

I am tired of disproportionate weight making me unbalanced and unable to function. I need to recharge and have for too long. All attempts falling short or taking more effort than my reserves can handle. I need a break a genuine weekend uninterrupted and peaceful. I need silence so deafening that I cannot fail to hear the universe speak. I need chaos to sleep now and its slumber allows me to be awake again. I need to see light in my eyes and to stop feeling so dim. I am starving, my soul is ravished hungry for living again, hungry to want again, hungry from not having been fed for too long. I stopped doing the things I loved. I stopped it all. I miss painting and writing and connecting. Even spirit has been very quiet with me lately aware of my disconnect or maybe I disconnected.

People tire me, the opinions and judgments and the self-serving bullshit. Day in and out of the same thing, be this way, think this way. Fold yourself up neatly into this square so that you can fit in. I don’t fit into the box, my soul is boundless to make believe rules. I see the beauty in differences. The worthwhileness of others that are cast haphazardly aside. The majority is still that of tired old ways of societal perception of acceptable. Screw that, there are enough of us with our freak flags to shift that balance. Forget the standard, fuck standards, standards everywhere, standardized tests, standards of learning, standards of living, and on and on. I am so done with made-up expectations and rules. Let’s reflect on it, I venture to say that most workplaces still do not allow hats. A freaking hat unless you are in an environment where hats are required. A world where wearing a hat is unprofessional per the rules, yet a place where not wearing one is against the rules. Made up stuff to keep you in line. I don’t know, it’s just all so tiresome.

Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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