CRUSHING BOXES

 Waking up today, trying to channel Clawdia, one thing runs through my head, the old adage, otherwise known as the GOLDEN RULE :  

 "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." , it simply means you should treat others as you'd like to be treated.

I have always tried to live within this scope of being.  Today, I struggle with the simply put aspect of it as I ponder the reality that hides around the corner.  If I treated others the way that they treat me, in the larger scope of things then I would have to go against my core self. 

I bet it would feel great to snub and become unavailable in every circumstance, to tell people that my life is none of your business and to make them feel like they can't even ask "how are you?" "What are you up to?" to know that they are struggling to manage physically and only care about myself when and if I do bother to call, and then when I call only ask for a favor and as an aside ask but not listen to how you are actually feeling. To say I am sleeping all day tomorrow only to leave at first light and come back after dark, not answer the phone and then call someone in your house to let them know you are alive and well....burn in hell. 

I wonder, as I sit in thought, emotions aside, through a lifetime of memories I glide. I wonder, if it comes with such ease like an invasive disease in those others, to hurt and then blame it all on  you? how safe am I from the disease? If I did unto you as you do unto me will that set me free? If I do, won't that make me sick like  you?

I try to find a loophole, like I did when I was younger, to help me accept and write off your behavior like it isn't against me, hadn't hurt me, infected me, driven me into choices that I might not have made otherwise. I am just a buffer for the guilt you never feel.  I will never heal.

Just THINKING about the past doesn't mean I live there.  Just connecting the dots in the whole picture, the full piece doesn't give me PEACE. It just confuses a brain that lives in the original fairy tale that is really, as all fairy tales are, a NIGHTMARE hellscape.

My self is connected so deeply in the original lie, the pie in the sky and the cow jumped over the moon made of cheese. Dear lord, please cure me of this disease. I have to put it aside, take it in stride. A change needs to come before I am undone.  I have seen all I need to see and don't care to hear any more.  It appears to be time to close that door and accept the unacceptable. 

EMPTY BOXES

 Clawdia, Clawdia, where forth art thou, Clawdia?  

All I see is Jennifer. 

You know HER, that weird girl who forgets that expectations lead to disappointment. That girl that forgets the mask and one look at her face will tell you more than you can get in words.  Silence and quiet responses when spoken to, so as not to be rude, or crude.  She is neither.  She is meek  and silent.  

Stuck in between.  In between being able to laugh off the latest non verbal slap in the face and facing the reality she has been laughing off for most of HER life. The fairy tale.  Always the fairy tale. Accepting it for the story that it is, instead of the magical hope that walked by her side when she was ALONE, always alone.

That pretty little thing with the long dark hair and the sparkly blue eyes, unless they were green or god forbid silver...those eyes. She couldn't bear to look into those eyes. She saw deep inside.  She refuses to look, knowing that if she looked too close she wouldn't be able to believe the lie, to face the reality.

It has been harder for her to not see the reality. She is not ready to accept that reality.  She is angry in the reality. Angry and Jennifer are not good companions.  That is why she holds off accepting the reality. Some might say it is bad to not face what is there but in the shadows, no longer in the box, but still, remaining just there...can you, wait, nope...nope. For a second I thought there was hope.

Clawdia, Clawdia...

you who are me, but thee, you who do not give two figs about the hidden digs, the asshole pigs.  She, me, the girl who can take it all in stride.  She never has to hide, she laughs freely and dances in the streets.  The girl who walks always in style with a smile; where forth art thou, Clawdia???

Clawdia knows that the silver lining requires a peek.  Claudia knows that the evil that lurks in the shadow is the speaker of all of the lies. He smiles and wears no disguise.  Just the lies. Claudia knows that it is true, but never knows what to do because Jennifer cares despite the despair that goes nowhere and never has. Nothing ever changes. 

Where is Clawdia?  Where is the faith and hope?  The view from a different scope? Where is the mask? The smile? Where is my magical little bit of silver lining?  Is it the cake that is not as it should have been a birthday cake which is now just cake? If only it were that simple....