irumeur..., Spirtuality
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irumeur… I’m Out of Control

I’m waiting…

For what? 

                                                     Death.

When? 

                                                                                            I don’t know!

Am I a webtoon character where someone else gets to decide when I die, who I love, what I become?

         I try to remember the last time any decision I made for my own life came to fruition.  As a young woman, I knew who I loved and what I wanted to be.  Along my path, I’ve made choices to dare myself in facing the dangers of rejection, loneliness, and disappointment -believing if I tried hard enough I would one day be in control.

Yet, here I sit without a single hope my dreams will come true.

With each step, I get knocked back down.  With each choice, I am forced to accept I am not in control.  With each desire I am shown a trickle of satisfaction.  With each change I make it only becomes a new way to fail.  Why?  Who are you who holds the pen to my creation? 

If your hand must intervene into my every drawing why do you give me barriers I can’t break through?  Did you create me for disillusionment?  Did you give me desire, creativity so I would see -and then place the eraser to my success?

I’m waiting…

For what?

Your plan… an understanding.  Anything that will make my life worth living.

I am your pawn.  You created me.  You molded me.  You love me.  But, you don’t want me to rise above my limitations and love myself.

I’m tired…

Of what?                                                  

                                                             Waiting.

                                       On what?

Me!                                   

Is there a plan? 

             Are my scenes  already drawn? 

                                              Can we change them just once? 

                                                                                 Must I die and be forgotten?

My handicaps have been to difficult to over come.  I want to be a part of the living but your eraser prevents me from moving out of bounds.  Is there something about me I don’t know?  My shortcomings, my fears, my self-doubt,  I fight through and push on -then, it comes… the knowledge that this is the farthest I get to go.

Why do you draw me lonely? 

Was I drawn this path to understand suffering? 

As you place your pencil to paper are my dreams forgotten ? 

Is this the best of me?

I’m waiting…

                            

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This entry was posted in: irumeur..., Spirtuality

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I am a mother of 16 children and grandchildren. Some of them are by blood and the rest by heart. I was a foster mom for a few years and the children I cared for during that time have mostly stayed with me through the years. I love to write, read, dance, paint, and play with my animals. I enjoy dressage riding and just being in the barn. My words are my gift, as they allow you to know me as I really am. Thanks for joining me on this ride of life!

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