Suffocate

I used to love to climb trees. After church every week my mom would have to call me down out of my favorite Magnolia tree in the front yard. I used to climb up there in my Sunday's best and get fussed at from here to Tuscaloosa about messing up my "good dress pants." But that's what kind of child I was: adventurous. When we took a vacation once I saw some of the older boys jumping off a cliff into a pool of cool blue ocean. I wanted to join them so badly.

In my teenage years I loved to rock climb. I took a trip once to Denver, Colorado and got to mountain bike, rock climb, and white water raft to my heart's content. I have always had a taste for the wild side. I love to party. Drinking, not really necessary, but I will every now and again. I go to parties to dance. Dance with every good-looking, pretty, young thang. Or dance by my damn self. I don't care. If I'm sweating and still getting numbers, then I'm having a good time. In college I loved being able to do Musical theater. It was dramatic. It was artistic. It was poetic. It was energetic. It was ALIVE! To say the least.

So, sitting here. In this house. Yet another day. Another week. Another moment. Makes the walls feel like they're breathing down my neck. Sometimes it's difficult to concentrate, for sake of the fact that I've got all this high-activity, versatile energy I need to use up, and the only thing I can ever manage to channel it into, is another one of these blogs. They're getting rougher. They feel stale when I type them sometimes, because they're all focused on this one notion of twiddling my thumbs. Someone once said, "If you play the music loud enough, it keeps the demons at bay." But lately it seems I have been drowning in silence and it's making me go mad.

In my mind I'm etching tally marks of how many days I've been in this place. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for some miracle by virtue to come in and swoop me from my reclusive life of deafening silence. Something vibrant and vivid with Life and Love. And sadly I am left anxious at best for a chariot stuck in traffic. Delaying my departure. My solace is here. In my mind. And even that is starting to feel a bit lonely. God, please release me from my torment. This circle of pragmatism is really starting to tear on me.