Sightless

Heavy are the thoughts.
Wandering aimlessly, lost
Fog to thick to see.
KKF

Sometimes it’s just so thick, that fog that falls around you. Your vision blocked, you enter a void where your next move is vital. Do you flail your arms, wildly grabbing for anything anywhere? Do you scream out into the void? What do you do, what do you do? I tend to fall into the void marching forward thinking I’m stronger for it. Or possibly my devil may care attitude for my own well being compels me to seek the deeper realms of this dark place. So I sink and I fall deeper and deeper, as I fall I do reach out to all the vices I think will help along my journey.

My endless gaming to become lost in my unfulfilled escapism. Books to fill my mind with more knowledge, more stories anything to help become more aware of this thing called life. The now, the past, the future, the meaning of it all, an Existential quandary of sorts. My other vices is trying to find comfort in friends and family and pets.

A new form of escapism that I have fallen in love with is the green house I built with my fiancé about 1.5 years ago. It’s a simple house of wood and industrial clear plastic. What I love about it however is that literally every time I feel stressed or anxiety or that imbalance turns into an unavoidable depression. As soon as I open the door and walk into that humid wall of moist, thick air and life, smelling the scent of tomato plants, and random wild flowers etc growing, I smile. I smile from ear to ear, and immediately forget my issues and think these are little seeds I’ve nursed and look at them now, sunflowers over 8 feet tall and everything bright green and alive and beautiful. It begins to lift you out of that hole you fall into.

I try so hard to lean on others but I never do it successfully, there’s always a block always a fear maybe that they will let me down, or I’ll let myself down. Idk, for now it seems I’m still alive marching through this world and the little band aids of relief I have used til now seem to work temporarily enough. They seem to, until the next fall that is. But for now a trip to the green house to take care of some pruning and focus yet again on something else other than myself.