Withdrawn I suppose that is what I am lately.  Inward only thinking more than acting.  Listening more than speaking.  I have so much to say yet I feel like saying nothing at all.  I am reflective more than expressive these days and I’m tired.  I am tired of explaining well or badly or everything in between it’s exhausting.  Some things just are or aren’t and some things are simple and do not need to become over-complex because people want you to elaborate.  Explanation often falls on deaf ears, people narrate your words based on their opinions and feelings, so why waste your breathe when they make their own final drafts of your expressions. 

I live in peace in the simplest and most quiet moments.  Sipping coffee in a freshly clean room no talking, no listening just existing quietly without expectation or deliberation. I follow only the blueprint of my soul I cannot reprogram it to suit others better more pleasant by personal standards.  We are all human flesh and bone and unique each a chord in a symphony of music of all living things and the song without your sound is less beautiful and lacking even if everyone doesn’t appreciate the song it plays.  Some will harmonize with you, others will clash and be offbeat with you but the song you play belongs just the same. 

I find myself living in the moment unable to look ahead. This poses its own problems causing a lack of planning or moving forward, but I cannot because I do not wish to race against an hourglass that I cannot see. I don’t wish to put off things but at the same time, I don’t want to plan ahead with time I may not have. I want to spend my finite time making mundane memories with my children, watching movies, laughing over silly things, perfecting microwave mac and cheese the standard no other will obtain in my child’s eyes. Singing in the car on the morning drive to school. The smell of my morning coffee brewing they will remember long after I am gone. Success is in the eye of the beholder, to instill kindness and change in my children to leave a meaningful legacy behind, that is success to me. I look at working as a trade of time, and I ask myself if I am trading hours of my life for the right things. Time spent cannot be returned.


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.

5 thoughts on “Reflective

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