Don’t quite remember where my mind was at when I wrote this one a few months back, but, it is interesting . . .
I’m trapped!
This mind is a prison. The only thing worse than knowing that I cannot escape myself is knowing that who I can not escape fits perfectly as a puzzle piece into the mind that is the unity of all other individual minds upon this planet. Myopically oriented, or aware of my placement within the perfect workings of all surroundings, I cannot escape who I become past who I was, that who I am.
No straight-jacket needed if I be deemed insane, I cannot escape myself. As a bus passes fruit stand after fruit stand; an oasis of exotic strawberry pie by the side of the road to quench one’s hunger on a long summer day. And yet I am not in control of this bus and there are too many passengers to request pulling over. Hurling myself through a pane of glass toward the quenching of desire for a taste a sign creates in my head promising simply doesn’t seem practical in the light of having a genuine impulse to be somewhere, especially in light of not being able to be anyone but this person with the desire to be there. And so hunger becomes only stronger on the way to the next stop of this bus where I have no choice but to pray food resides.
I choose my prison only because choosing liberation in a ditch chomping on poison seems so much worse.
Tygarjas Twyrls Blog 