Surrounded by a dense thick invisible fog, she struggles to reach forward stuck a mid stretch, her hands clawing, pushing, grappling for substance, something to bring her back to the heavenly touch of the boy with the shoes. The overwhelming rush of being pushed down, pushed back further into the abysmal mist, swimming against the unseen torrent, the flood of all the responsiblities. Its too much, too many things at once throwing her in a deep state of panic. Feeling the pull of too many arms grasping her, wanting, needing it all now, now, not tommorrow, now, pulling her down down the rabbit hole. And not knowing what awaits on the other end, who waits on the other end, if she struggles, she will fail. So overwhelming, unable to climb out and yet through the fog she can see the passion but unable to touch with what her heart desires. Its twisting around her, changing her course, changing directions, pulling her down, down to the very depths of her soul. Releasing her burdens one step at a time. Release. Climb slowly up. Breathe. Cry. Do one thing at a time until she can climb out of this fog. Make a list and stop the struggle to control it all.
10:42:52 PM 
|
|
