The court

Some analogies for you: if my life is a person, who is on a walk, through the woods, it is at a pitchfork split right now. It can go one of two ways.

Similarly, “the ball is not in my court.” And it never was…

Only God has decided and gets to decide my fate. And I am right now, just a spectator, waiting to see what happens (think of the principals getting dunked in the dunk tank, or an audience in the colossum watching the gladiators, or Tris in Divergent, when she’s trapped in one of those visions. I feel trapped too. Lucid dreaming. This isn’t real, right? Or is it…that’s the question. I think of when she’s in the water glass box, she’s trapped, she’s stuck, and she’s trying to break out because the water keeps filling, and she will drown if she doesn’t somehow break out. Or even when she’s underneath in the lake swamp. Same water theme, where she has to get out…or she dies…yep exactly…) Will I get out, also? Will I get out too?

Even if you hate books, shows, and movies…or conversations…all of this is necessary in life. How else would we possibly understand life? To what else, would I create analogies, to help myself and you understand? To what else would you relate to, create jokes about?

Waiting to see which way the equilibrium arrow will go (ochem again, lol), waiting to see which way the pendulum swings (physics, perhaps).

If any of you have ever read “A Prayer for Owen Meany” (great book, by the way) a GREAT theme in that book that I never would’ve thought would apply so perfectly to my own life…especially after the fact, (of reading), how applies perfectly. In the book, Owen feels as if he doesn’t have hands (he gets his hands, or arms, even ripped from a bomb) but the thing is he feels it coming…he sees it coming. Like some prophecy or vision.

Now I don’t know what’s going to come, but there are signs, aren’t there?

Hands, fate, signs…all topics I have already written about, that you can check out if you’re interested (the idea of you being interested is kind-of funny to me, but still I will say this).

Court. Tennis court. Now I’m thinking of the tennis court at a park my house is nearby…I am not home right now, and certainly…I have regarded this university, or this dorm, as such.

I don’t feel wanted, accepted here…actually an imposter…

It used to be philosophical, it used to be cultural…it used to be more fun feeling not accepted. But now it’s horrible, because I could get kicked out. Not wanted, fr fr.

I would take a walk to that park EVERYDAY in the summer. Reminiscing summer now…even though it was quite terrible, for these very reasons.

I believe I know what causes depression now. It is a lack of purpose. Because I had a typical, classic, book “depression” in the summer. In bed. No motivation. Losing + lack of interest.

No one can convince me otherwise, of anything. Too hopeless, too far gone. And all of my friends remain blind and hopeful, still…I think they will be this way until the very end. But they shall see. We shall see, shall we?

Which way will it go?