I spent last week wandering about in the desert of my own little world trying to make sense of things that don't. I was so deep in that desert I had to drop almost completely out of this world to get there. I did journey back, but the walk was long (despite the relatively short amount of time I was gone)and I came back with an empty hand. I was exhausted and ready to just settle for that.
To my detriment, I'm a thinker. Everything must be analyzed. Everything must be profound.
I like evidence. Visible evidence.
I like explanation.
I nearly require logic.
Why? Why must I make everything difficult?
Sometimes I don't even know I've made something difficult.
Such a time was today. "Stop this chicken!" (Said in a deliberate voice.) And somehow everything I've been grasping for (which has been in front of me all along and yet I could not grab hold) was still enough for me to pick up.
I realize none of this makes any sense to any of you. It makes sense to me.
And now I don't have to settle for less than what I know is mine.
