***
My boss and I have this thing going...it's a limerick challenge. It's my turn. I wrote one this morning, got a reply and ... this is how it goes.
So...
It's hard after eating much cheese
a burger, with fries, if you please
to think on your feet
but I think it is neat
That texting still comes as a breeze
***
Sometimes I think back on my attempt to write an entire blog in 140 word thoughts. At the time, I remember it was harder than it seemed. Lately, however, I notice myself defining my reality in tweets.
Antje Spethmann was overcaffinated this morning but now needs tea.
Antje Spethmann wishes she knew what idiot caused today's traffic jam.
Antje Spethmann is really sorry she had a burger and fries (no bun) for lunch.
Antje Spethmann has Friday-afternoonitis.
Antje Spethmann wonders how ugly guys get hot chicks?
Antje Spethmann is just jealous that she's not a hot chick.
Antje Spethmann feels lost amid the ruins of her own reality.
***
So this morning I made a reference to a friend, about the 40 days wandering in the wilderness.... he, being Jewish, reminded me that it was 40 years... and to be frank... my waywardness seems to have been years, but I digress.... the Chosen were lost in the desert for 40 years... No no... Said I. Jesus wandered and was tempted... I might have thrown in the "why hath thou forsaken me?" bit, too... his reply? "Jesus, who?"
***
That aside, tho.... I do feel like I've been lost in a desert for a long time... days, months, years. And I do understand the metaphor means that I will one day find the oasis. But just bear with me a minute... in my desert, I sustain myself with water... and on the days when I am dehydrated, I question much more than on other days - when I can manage just fine, without making any real forward progress. Here, in this desert are the ruins of my dreams... for a successful thriving recruiting business, for an elegant home where my friends would come and go freely and for a life overflowing with adventure and experience and love.
It occured to me that I am in a state of mourning that seems to kill successive things off so that the mourning can continue.
Creepy and ridiculous, right? I am not such a victim that I really believe that last bit of conspiracy. Still, the vision persists.
The ruins are gray and it is quiet. No, soundless. And there is a wind. But the key is I am moving. I am not still standing... among the ruins. But I slso don't want to run.
So I have survived. And I am aware that there is an end to this... but I have not yet decided how to find it... so I move slowly and deliberately. Which, in this vision, is a lot better than running.
I am not a fan of running away.
***
Here is a pic

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