So. The gray outside mirrors the gray inside. Asked if I'm mad, my conditioned kneejerk says no. But I am. Dwelling makes the anger rise, so I try not to.
The wind blows and the sip's savor is bitter--neither a good year nor vintage. But it's what I have so I use it. The clouds it creates in my head are not unlike the clouds blown by outside--confused in direction; stretched thin to different compass points not of their desired destination.
How did this hurt me so deep?
How come I let it?
I know how. My yearning made me.
Empty for so long, a soul can attach hope to that which is doomed, blinding itself to the inevitable. This is not the first time, nor am I innocent. Still, I feel played.
So. I'm trying to laugh. In hopes that the pain will pass by.
Funny how we can create conditions in ourselves to quell our own nature. Humor is hard to find in the dark. So much to make me happy just out of sight and my flashlight has dead batteries.
I have hope. Hope that after I let the fields of my heart go to fallow, I can return in some years and turn the soil. Maybe then I can find a seed to take root, to grow. Maybe then it will be a place of comfort, of peace.
This makes me smile. Laugh. I hope it makes you smile too. And maybe, you're a little crazy and laughing out loud makes it all alright.
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Humour is an element that adds spice to life and without which may be life would have been very difficult to spend. But contrary to what many people believe, http://www.besthealthmed.com/humour.html humour is not all about smiling and laughing, though it caters to these fields mainly. Humour is actually the capability to see the lighter side of life, sometimes even in a serious environment. But this lighter view of life should be done intelligently. Slapstick humour is no humour at all, it is just trash.
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