Symbols

There are a lot of different definitions of symbols. Some people use them as excuses for the way they live their lives. Some people define themselves with symbols. Some people read them for answers.

But some times, symbols are more than that. Sometimes things become representative without conscious effort. Sometimes they just become, and until that symbol breaks. You may never be aware of its existence. This has recently happened to me.

Meet Sophie:




Sophie is my car. My symbol of rebirth. The first really nice thing I've ever owned. The first car I really connected with. She was the beginning of bigger and better things for me. The ambassador of my future. She was my subconscious symbol. And now...

she's broken.

The oil pump went out. For those of you not mechanically inclined. That means the oil-pump was no longer sending oil through the engine. So it ran dry. This happened while I was on my home from James house, so I unknowingly drove it home. Now, what happens when an engine runs dry. Well, to put it bluntly, it burns up. The bearing go dry, the lifters shake, and sooner or later, you throw a rod or two. So what does that mean? It means new engine time.

So, how do you overcome the first death of a subconscious symbol? Be it resurrected or not?

Who knows? I do. You just do. You just move through it, like everything else. And hope for the best. Make it happen. What else can you do?

It's the funny thing about WISDOM

Current mood:Conflicted

You know what I think is funny. How smart I am, how perceptive, how easy it is for me to look at a situation objectively and come up with answers.

Why is that funny? Because most of the things that are so clear to me. Seriously,80% of them, I know nothing about from personal experience. You heard me, zip, nada, zilch.

So, why is it that people come to me for advice? Is it because of my own persona; brand of clear cut logic. You know, the kind that takes emotions and turns them into factors. Factors that can conveniently be cut out of the equation at some point?

Perhaps, it is because I am merely an observer in these things that I can see them so clearly, from my point of view anyway.

I often wonder how many realize that I will talk to them for hours about happenings, dynamics, relationships, problem, ect....that I care absolutely nothing about. I've always been good at keeping some realities to myself, but come on....no one is that good. EVERYONE can't be fooled.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't care about the people who come to me for advice, but, I just really don't understand why they need my advice at all. After all, all I can do is deduce from logic and fact what I think is the right course of action. I'm not in their shoes, I don't feel what they feel, and I don't want to. Hell, I don't even want to hear about it. But I do. All the time.

I never turn them away, I always listen. I always advise. I always do what is expected of me.

But I always wonder when the day is through, why do they expect it from me? Me, the person who keeps things on lock down. The person who has never been there, at least romantically (well, most of the time). After all, I'm the girl who is famous for the two-week relationship. I look out for me, myself, and I above everyone else.

So many people come to me for advice, they think I am wise. But the funny thing about my wisdom? It lacks experience. Think about that.

3 years to the day

so, I've been a little moody today. A little morose, a little grumpy. I could blame it on lack of sleep, or my fast food job, or the fact that I have no idea when I will be able to see the people I want. But if I was going to be honest, I'd have to say that today, well, it's all just getting to me.

For those of you that don't know what I'm talking about, 3 years ago I gave birth to baby boy who I gave up for adoption to my aunt and uncle. It's a long story but if you don't know the details, then you probably don't need to know them. For the past two years I've been ok, no big emotional roller coaster, no real emptiness, nothing really out of the ordinary. just another 4th of July. But something about this year is just different.

Maybe it's living with my mom, and taking care of her while she recovers from her surgery. Maybe it's knowing people who enjoy taking care of their siblings or children and helping them. Maybe it's being away from the people who have always been my strongest line of defense against all things depressing and who were there with me from the beginning of all of it. Whatever it is that makes this year different, this year I'm sad. This year I don't want to be alone, this year I want to be held, this year I want to cry. But don't worry, I won't.