Out of the wilderness...

Second round of laundry done. So I can relax, take a seat and a smoke. What am I thinking of? Polar Express. Why? Because it seems to have one of the best soundtracks ever recorded in the world. I could never describe this music in words. It's spine-shivering, a tear jerker, and just so awesomely beautiful. And if you need a good cry, then go on and try it, it will lessen any amount of stress to zilch.

Sometimes I cannot help but cry. I've cried because I was in mourning, I've cried because a relationship ended suddenly, I've cried because I was sad and lonely. Now I cry because I cannot help it, emotions overwhelm me, and my mind starts pumping blood as in 100 km per hour. No, these aren't sad tears. They are tears of impatience, tears of not knowing what is happening now just 5 minutes away. Out there lies the wilderness. In here lies all the comfort in the world. Out there lies a lot of tears, loneliness, sadness and emptiness. And nobody would listen. We lack badly in the listening department, we think we adults have it all down to a Tee. But we don't. And finally someone is listening. The make-believe is over. It's no use resisting a determined little someone who has had enough of being out in the wilderness and only wants to be brought back into comfort. People should never learn to be lonely. Little people especially. Walking with their hands in their pockets, with an air of desperateness is not a picture one should see. But we do, and I have. And it makes me all the more certain. I am no Mother Goose. But I keep my promises. Always, without fail.

Decisions

I am trying to read my own blog through different eyes. It's difficult, because it's all so personal and it all so very much seems the same. One friend doesn't think so. My partner doesn't think so either. I guess I know what they're thinking. It's as if I have just had psychological surgery. I also pray a lot. All righty, I am not and will never turn into a prayer junkie who hollers during a prayer meeting because they are convinced that they can speak the language of God. Oh no. I actually feel sorry for those poor old souls, I really don't think it's God intervening but rather a sudden schizoid spell from I don't know where. They think it's God, and it doesn't harm anybody, so let them think that. I, on the other hand, am so not convinced. But perhaps everyone has his own way of talking to God, me included, although I am way less conventional. I also put a lot of responsibility on the Guy. I am never ever sure, so I take the very easy road and say, Hey God, You know I cannot decide which shoes to wear, and You made me in Your creation so please give me a helping hand, stop the things which were never meant to happen in Your plan for me, but accelerate the ones that were meant to be. I know, I know I am taking a hell of a short cut but that is what I do.

Clean-cut decisions are not for me. Which pair of earrings will I wear, which coat, which this and which that. Thankfully I am no early bird so I never have time to weigh and outweigh possible options. The first thing that happens to be in my wardrobe will have to do. That's so terribly easy. Unfortunately I am unable to carry it on in other spheres. The saddest part is that I look like a terribly dominant girl, when I'm not at all. Control is never in my vocabulary, perhaps it's a good thing, perhaps it's not. I hear that the first round of laundry is ready. Will be back.

Big, small?

Good morning world. I've actually been up earlier than this, but it's Christmas time, so I had to devote some of my time shopping for the greatest and latest Christmas decor. Because I don't like the usual decor, it's got to be chic too, otherwise it won't match my cluttered- but- otherwise- also- chic home. I am throwing caution to the wind this year, I don't care how much it costs, it's got to be fit for a prince.

Although I'd like to think that I have all the Crown Jewels stashed away here, well I don't. But it's a good try. Only now am I understanding the true value of Christmas. Perhaps it's late, but I have at least got there. Some people probably never ever get to understand it. Dominant people will probably hate this season as if it's hell on earth, because the limelight is not on them anymore, but it moves on to something far more special. I am still thinking about dominance, swollen heads and egos. My oh my, it's such a blessing that they are not President of the United Nations, or the world would be in for it. They are not the star of the show anymore, because they probably think that life is a show. It's a cliche` for us girls, beware of men with fast red sports cars because that is usually trying to make up for what the men don't have. Beware of tight, rigid, anal-retentive men, because they're probably hen-pecked to death, so then they will throw their weight around. Weight, the topic of so many discussions. I am the expert at it, but no, I do not throw my weight around. And perhaps sometimes I should, it would squash these sad creatures to death in the process. And no it won't mean a national funeral because these people were so small in the first place. They just thought they were big, but factually they were as small as a pea. They will have probably thought they would be missed, but they won't be. They will also probably have thought out their own epitaph, but nobody will go to the trouble of having it carved in cold white marble. Too expensive. The key-word here is being humane. People can be perfectionists but still have a heart. I know one man like that. He is still young, but oh what an old head on young shoulders. He is not extra-large, but then again, you don't have to be an extra large to have feelings inside. I am going to risk going against myself, but humane does not necessarily come in big packages. I have no problem with big people, but not if they think they rule the world. And there again I have no problem with smaller people especially if being human takes up a lot of their package. It does seem sometimes, that people have fallen into the wrong profession. The big heads would have done much better if they had branched out to being professional dominants. Respect is something that someone earns. I will gladly respect anybody who has a heart and uses that heart in every day life, and it could be small but hold such grandeur. God bless them, they are what make day to day life special. They will always be the ones I will humbly ask for advice. They are the ones who earn my respect effortlessly. And God bless them because I have been blessed enough to meet them in this thing called life.