Paper Thin Existence

I saw them through misguided vision; clusters of glinting pixy dust floating through the sun. Was it just dust or really tiny fairies here to tell me something I needed to know, needed to realize?

I figured it out later that they were there to remind me of what I needed to do.

"Post-pone, please, just a little longer. Post-pone, please until I'm a little stronger. Post-pone, please, because time is not kind. Post-pone, please, let me just rewind - again."

I would plead to them through my mind. They would sympathize with me and leave me when the sun went down.

They would return again the next day. Every time they came I would look for a window or a way...A way to the outside just so I could suffocate myself in the fresh air that was motherly and full of life. It was the only thing I could think to do to stop the heat in my body from rising above my eyes and leaking out the top of my head. But alas, I never moved. It was the only thing I could think to do to calm my body from what I knew they were here telling me. But alas, I never moved.

Eventually blinding light through my closed eyes brought them to me through startling dreams telling me that life wasn't all that it seemed. That it is NOT as sweet as a fairy tale or as calm as a sail down the ocean's light wind. It may appear in all the perfect colors of a Ferris -Wheel but it lacks the equality only half the colors believe in.

These detective little fairies inspect everything about my life as they swirl and touch everything I've ever collected. It may only be my longing, but they appear to be contrite. But alas, I'm paralyzed to my seat. But alas, I am paralyzed inside my mind. I cannot stand to sweep them away. I cannot verbalize even a simple "Hello" to say.

Oh did I mention, that there was one fairy, sly as the spring in May? It whispers in my ear the "reality" of life.

"Life is just a mirage you can see so clear you think it's real. Dreams are what life's about. Dreams are what we feel. Therefore, life is nothing but a well-designed way to deal. It's the dreams that conquer day and the dreams that conquer night, changing with time, but never out of sight." It said to me with enticement I could not deny.

My only reply: "I do NOT have dreams, nor live in a dream, nor dream of a dream. I HAVE NIGHTMARES!" Then I smooth back my fraying hairs. As I have screamed this into my reflection. Screamed to my hairs flying in all directions.

It feels as if it's rhyme or reason is intended without malice or treason. Just a cautionary tale of the circle of seasons. When it's dark at night and all the fairies disappear I am left feeling so dazed and confused, lost and used, and forgotten about to all. Nothing is clear. Am I important to the balance of life? There is soooo oooo oooo much strife. I cannot be important to this life. I am running on empty withthis question in my mind. Banging and nagging and draining me all the time. I am stuck! WTF

What is love?

Is it cold sheets between my feet?

Only if you love cold sheets between your feet.

Is it hot showers that slide down my face and over my body?

Only if you love hot showers that slide down your face and over your body.

Is love the touch of someone else coursing through my veins, warming me, and alarming me?

Only if you love yourself enough to let someone else love you.

Wait! No! Stop! Shut Up! I do NOT want this mush and muck! Love is not the imprint of my toes in the sand and the ocean washing them away. Love is not the puppy breath I smell as they lick my woes away. Love is not constant thought. Over-analysis. Dramatization. Socialization. Crazy stupid antics that raise my heart rate. Love is not these stupid fairies flying around my house twinkling in the sunlight. Love is not the fact that they remind me I am so far gone I do not clean, I do not comb, I do not fight against the dying light or ever leave my home. I do not even cry the tears society thinks I should cry. I simply sit and watch them float and constantly ask why.

From the bed to the chair. From the chair to the bed. Heaving sighs and stretching yawns. From dawn till dusk and dusk till dawn. I had no idea why this was happening to me. Billions of people just like me, so no, I know it's not just me. This was the thousandth night in a row that I awoke. Inside my head, it must be an internal wiring joke. From a nightmarethat baffles as it is illogical and makes not a lick of sense. I desperately never want to think about it, to relive them. I desperately don't want to be apart of them. My heart beats a mile a minute, my chest heaving with insufficient breath. I'm being squeezed to death by pixie dust and I can never calm down enough.

So I lay. So I sit. So I feel time slip. In the chaotic silence and tense still of the twilight, watching outside my window, intently, for life beyond my window, to begin inherently.