One of the most horrible things about living in our world is that we are slaves to a bloody clock. Our days are divided up into segments of 24 hours rather than from sunrise to sundown. If I ever have my way, my day will go back to the natural way it was meant to be. To be honest, I am mainly tired and ill in bed with the flu as I type this, but I still will type away.
However I am grateful for all of this because it gives me so much time to reflect. It gives me time to sit back and just BREATHE. I love life. I love the opportunities that are opening up for me–and they are there. I see them on the dream board I’ve been building onto and adding to for over a year. Time, reflections and travel are recurring themes on it and I know it will come to pass.
I constantly think outside the box. I’ve never had the opportunity to really study the arts which I find to be fascinating, but I did have the opportunity to read many books, which breathe life into many a subject–if they are able to keep my interest longer than some of the people I have met. Because of a lot of drama and trauma, I was the reclusive creature in my younger years. I was a lot like Ally Sheedy‘s character in “The Breakfast Club” too–minus the stealing. I couldn’t draw like she could–but I could write. That was my escape from the cruel world in which I lived. I find that this fan made video featuring the character of Allison Reynolds was perfect:
To me that was the character, that in real-life, who was probably the most misunderstood and (most likely) misguided among them all. No one knew what went on in her head until she acted on it. She didn’t share much until later. No one knew what pain she went through outside of the school-house walls. I wonder where she would be in a class reunion today? I know where I am–usually…Notably absent and with reason.
This is what Allison and I needed to hear when we were younger…Maybe one day if she hasn’t already–we will hear this from SOMEONE:
I dreamed of one day having the courage to even get in front of people again, which I now have.
I can so relate to that song. You can hear it in its entirety here:
I lived that song and I really would like to cover it with an all female band…Growing up in the south has been confining in some ways, but very free in others. Now before all my Baptist relatives and friends start sending me e-mails, I will say this. All that song says to me is that we are all responsible for our own paths in life and we have to choose those for ourselves. Many of us were brought up to be pleasing and accommodating, when in reality, it is that nature in some of us that made us so weak that we reach a breaking point. We have to walk away in order to find our own answers at times–and it has nothing to do with whether we believe in a creator as much as it has to do with the fact that every person’s steps have to be directed from within.
It is when we follow our consciences that we often come up against stiff opposition from our families and communities and we are forced to conform and be accepted or go our own way and face their anger at their loss of influence over our everyday lives. They learn to deal with it, just as we learn to deal with the fact that some will never accept us as we are as individuals.
My dad used to really get angry if I failed to call him at least once or twice a month. One time he actually called the sheriff of the county I live in thinking that I went missing. I love him to this day for that. I also miss him terribly, even though there were times he really got upset because he couldn’t influence certain decisions of mine–including who to vote for. You see, if you don’t vote the way the family thinks you should vote, they think you come close to being a candidate for a frontal lobotomy for the simple fact that you break family traditions–at least it seems that way sometimes!
What blew his mind is when I actually would show him how people he supported actually voted on the issues. After that, he never voted a straight party ticket either–at least I do not think he did. It was also after that day he finally accepted the fact that I march to my drum and he didn’t have to worry over it.
As I was growing up, women were still being raised to be home-makers…Well, I didn’t exactly fit the mold. I worked and raised my kids. Sometimes it involved having 2-3 jobs. Again, my life was ran by a clock. People would say “budget your time”…I’d say, “You are so full of it. I work 2 jobs, attend college and am raising kids. I only have an allotment of 8 hours to budget for sleep–and that is if one of my kids isn’t sick!”
After some of my “friends” had kids of their own, they figured out what I meant. I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. They molded me into who I am today. When I am home sick, my boys get me chicken soup and Gatorade! Gatorade! The fix all for everyone’s ailments and/or injuries (according to them)! I think they got that off of Beavis and Butthead to be honest…Want proof? Here it is! Here is a clip from the “Dog Bite” episode!
Well, anyway, just because they are grown now, doesn’t mean that things change. They still need Mom from time to time and it makes her feel pretty good–even though they don’t know it! I keep it to myself a lot. When they get sick, I tend to look in on them, but God Forbid that I actually get them medicine! They refuse to take it for some reason–unless it’s REALLY serious enough to have antibiotics for. Maybe more of that Comanche blood is in them than I thought!
Well, anyway, life is good…I am happy and I love my boys–as well as my unborn grand child…
I’ll know whether to buy for a boy or girl on the 28th and I’ll spill the beans for sure! Take care and have a great weekend! I only hope that all the other Allison’s in the world find this sense of peace…