There’s nothing like a good Imelda Marcos documentary to make you realize just how much ridiculousness there is in the world…I swear it made me want to cry (and I don’t cry) when she started talking about how she was lucky because she could turn bad things off in her mind, ignore the people in her country living in garbage dumps and see the positive side of every situation.
Yet I feel in my heart strangely detached from it all.
I feel like I’ve stepped off a great battlefield in mid-fight. I’m watching from up a tree on a far hill I’ve climbed before. I have a good vantage point, but my armor is hanging loosely, punctured and gashed seemingly beyond repair. I’ve abandoned my sword and shield and so I’ve sought refuge in this flimsy cedar tree that’s lost its leaves, making me even more vulnerable to the enemy. I didn’t come here because I was scared, I came here because I was tired and angry and rebellious. I chose this fragile location and now I feel as though I do not have the power to un-choose it. And I wonder if I will always be here, if I will return to this spot again and again until finally I am captured by the enemy and done away with entirely or else rescued to eternity where none of all this will matter anymore.
Frailty is what I feel, tender, like I might break at any moment. I can hardly admit it because it is not a pleasant or funny or smart thing…it is uncomfortable and dramatic. It’s not sentiment or nostalgia or hormones, but unease I cannot shake. It’s as if everything I desire is much too much to ask.
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about me
i'm jenn. i'm 30 years old and still trying to figure out what i want to be when i grow up. i'm open to suggestions...
4 comments:
jenn, I love that title as it fits perfectly with your blog. Thanks for coming tonight. It was a good discussion which could have gone on all night but work, life, sleep... sleep, ah that's where im going to go right now.
Jenn, you are loved friend.
Have missed the communication and thanks for promting a new entry from my forgotten page!
I wonder what it would be like to be in an actual battle - and if you really were a soilder hiding in a tree, defiant of what the outcome might turn out - just needing that rescue or abandon or shelter. I don't know what it would be like - but I'm sure there would be those looking out for you - and that if you saw your chance to shoot an arrow in a vital moment you would. I guess I think it's okay to sit up there in the tree, you'll climb down when you're ready - or when the one in charge coaxes you down in his wise manner - probably in ways unheeded and unseen. It might be right for you to be there - you might see something no one else can see, or something you never would have seen were you on the ground.
In nothing matters but the cool of the evening shade or the pink glow of the sunset as the tierd one sits with falling armour up in a tree - then nothing else matters. Nothing else matters - because God will speak to you there.
'If' not 'In' ... :)
congratulations, graduate :)
i think you could ask for the world and god would gladly give it. you make his heart beat faster, i know that much.
hope today is wonderful for you. can't wait to see you soon!
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