The Rant

(And sometimes I write without a goal in mind…)

 

I have nothing to say. Really. I wish I did. Then I wouldn’t feel like my head is the reason I have been struggling with my weight most of my life. It’s the extra baggage. And it’s the worst kind of baggage. It conveniently becomes not just an added physical weight, but also an emotional one. So what do I do? Silencing it is a chore I wish I had made a habit a long time ago. But no. I had to listen to it. To rationalize with it. To take pride in it. And then it went to town, bought a really expensive tool set, removed the hammer and decided to go at it with my brain. Hammering away day and night. I wish I had that sort of dedication devoted to making myself useful. But I became accustomed to the chaos and it became used to my complacency. So here we are. World War 3 in my head. And the Russian Cold War in my mouth. Violence matched with passive stubbornness. How the hell did I get here?

 

But silence didn’t bring the peace it promises in those articles on Google, vainly telling you all about ‘peace of mind’ being directly correlated to the quiet. The quiet talks to me. It yells at me. It becomes my master and it shackles me. Then it makes me think. My worst nightmare. My greatest punishment. So here I am. Bowed down. Silence running circles around me, viciously laughing at my plight, commanding me in its sober ways to do as it pleases. And do I have a choice. No I do not. So I comply. Tortured in a way that I wish there would actually be a pin dropping in this ‘pin drop silence’ so I could be temporarily distracted. Even for a millisecond. But no pin drops. No tears fall. No screams escape the jail that is my predicament of being tongue-tied. So I wait. And wait. And wait. And nothing happens.

 

And then the thinking begins. The dreaded thinking. Building not castles, but fatalistic situations in the air. Making me question everything. How I ended up here? How long must I remain here? Where I went wrong? And how the hell do I turn around and go back? And the hammer is back. Thoughts. Hammer. Thoughts. Hammer.

Is this what they call the circle of life?

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2 thoughts on “The Rant

  1. well written sara! and somehow while i was reading this, the brief time we spent together hanging out flashed in my head and i missed you. *hug*

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