THE TOY BOX- Ode to a place that will never be found

There is a place where things exist.

They are placeholders, emotional placeholders.

We exist to get other folks from one place to another.

We exist to transport the broken and the pained.

We transport them to a better place, but we ourselves never really get anywhere.

We are left behind, we are forgotten. 

Possibly thanked in the short term, but forgotten no less.

We can always be found. 

When you need us we are there, waiting for your love.

Hoping for your love.

We feed off that hope, and will always be waiting for you. Waiting to be found again when others discard you. 

We will be there to pick you up.

We will get you to that next place, that better place.

If you need me, I can always be found. It is a thankless job and one that is completely deliberate yet always painful. I knowingly do this to myself. I knowingly become someones toy to have and hold until the newer model is found. 

I remain in the corner until the next time I am needed, always watching, perpetually smiling, waiting for that next moment. To be picked up and snuggled, to be hugged, to be loved. I wait. I wait until I am again wanted, until the comfort of my worn fabric is needed again. 

I am a constant. I am what some need to get to that next place in life. 

That next person who will fill the void I try so desperately to fill myself.

And as my smile wanes I wish, just once, that I would be that person.

That someone might choose me to fill their void.

That someone might be transported to me instead of away.

Instead of to that better thing, that I become that better thing.

That my void be filled.

Because I have so much to give.

So much to give.

So much to give.

But I place my faith in empty rooms, in empty hopes, in empty thoughts of comfort that will never be mine. I do this knowingly, deliberately, intentionally. 

Over and over I put my heart in others hands who do not have the will to hold it. They do not know what they have in their possession, or they do not care to see what I have really truly given. 

Myself.

My whole self.

My life and soul and whatever it is that makes me a human being.

And so I sit in the corner and wait for the next time I am needed. I wait for that next wonderful ride where I am given a chance to love. Where I am found again, so that I can transport that amazing person to their next destination and watch as their hopes flourish for a time and then fade.

Because I will run far, but that next person will not. That next person will not need you, not want you, not be there for you. But I will.

I can always be found. 

If you want me to stay.

I will stay by your side.

I can always be found.

Somber Sundays- Forgetting My Lines

If life is all one big play which we never quite grasp the plot of, then I would receive terrible reviews for my constantly having to glance at the script. Maybe I need to stop trying to "wing it" and actually rehearse for a change, but running everything through a filter just seems artificial and canned to me. I like to believe that what I say and do will always be genuine if I just blurt it out without contemplating the consequences.

Or maybe being impulsive just means I'm always gonna do or say the wrong thing....

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Somber Sundays- Lets take a walk outside..

I can't put a lot of stock into other people these days, and that's ok. I've spent the majority of my "adult" life as half of a whole, never quite able to be myself and without ever really discovering who I am. Though it was a hard couple of years after the split with Miss Mamma it eventually leveled out and, much to my surprise, I began to like the guy I had become.

Now that I am finally comfortable with myself the first instinct was to find someone to share it with...though this task it seems is much more difficult and honestly not entirely necessary. Now that I no longer need validation having a "relationship" isn't that huge a priority. Having good friends is more than enough to satisfy me right now and, hey, if a wonderful person does happen to stumble into my corner of the universe and does not immediately bounce out than why not.

All I am saying is that being a whole person, and being happy with who the person is, can be enough.

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Minecraft Mondays- Zombies

Still loving these Softer World strips, I think I will parody them some more! Zombie love makes my heart all a flutter, trying to turn this idea into something more...

Thankful Thursdays

Seven years and nine months ago I successfully procreated and produced a small female child whom I will refer to as Bugaboo. Now this is an interesting life development for more than just the obvious reasons due to me previously being against multiplying. This was not so much a noble decision as it was out of fear, fear that I myself would become like my parents which near the end of my childhood days were less than decent. I was under the belief that I would make a terrible father and a child would be better off not existing than to suffer through what I had for a large portion of my life. That all changed the second my little girl was brought into this world and even further solidified by the arrival of my Son two years later whom we shall call Bubbas. I am far from perfect, in fact my father skills aren't so much "Leave it to Beaver" as they are Homer Simpson, but gosh do I love my babies. And in the end it might not even be them who gets the most out of the deal for I have grown and changed and become an honest to goodness man because of my children. They have changed my life in every aspect and beyond the constant picking up of sharp plastic objects peppered like mines throughout my home I would call them perfect little people. So on this day I thank my Bugaboo and Bubbas for making life worth living everyday, there is nothing more wonderful than to see you smile and hear you say with unflinching conviction that you love me. Now please, I will give you ice cream if you could only just pick up your darn toys.....

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WTF Wednesday

What is it about lying that is so damn attractive to people? I know the urge to lie is buried deep down in the human psyche and stems from a basic human need to survive but why do some feel the need to spew them more than others? I have told my fair share of lies in the past and in doing so I literally went nowhere fast and ruined many things in the process, so much was lost in fact that I have since sworn to never lie again beyond whether Santa is real or how much time I spend playing/watching video games. This urge to be truthful was not easy to come by, mind you, and probably would not exist had I not screwed my life up initially so I can see how it would be hard for some to "kick" the habit.

I seriously have come across people in my life as of late that lie about the most random pointless things. They sit there and spout their false information while expecting you to swallow it and ask for more, this kind of shit annoys me endlessly and I have decided to not even bother with those folks anymore. I want to surround myself with truthful human beings whom I can trust and truly care for, no easy feat when the world is filled with selfish asshats.

Deciding to not lie is a huge life change for some and it can hurt, but only at first, like a band aid being pulled off your frontal lobe. It only gets easier with time though and you will be amazed at how much weight you remove from your metaphorical shoulders by not having to tiptoe over what is true and what is fabricated in your life.

In closing I want to thank those that make an effort to tell the truth, to be who they really are, and to care with all their heart about whatever it is they care for. Life is too short to deal with anything less than genuine feelings.

Fiction Fridays - Awake: Part 1

There once was a man named Jasper who had many regrets in life chief of which was the loss of a great Love. Though many years had long passed since Jasper and this woman parted ways the memories of times both good and bad haunted him.

Friends and family would urge Jasper to get out into the world more often and meet new people but he knew that they really just wanted him to meet a new woman and fall in love again. Now this was not a completely unpleasant idea to Jasper but the prospect of finding someone who would accept him and all his quirky, damaged traits was daunting indeed. So he slowly began creating a new life, not so much searching for someone outright, but quietly hoping to chance upon someone kind and wonderful. But as time passed and the months came and went Jasper never found that special someone and began to lose hope.  

Until one misty Tuesday evening when Jasper decided on a whim to go for a walk in the park down the street. He had spent many hours in this particular park, contemplating life and his many regrets so this was a very familiar place to him. But on this evening something was strange, not an obvious difference and possibly not even noticeable to those that do not frequent the area often, but strange none the less. The air was cooler as Jasper walked deeper into the park and though there were no light posts or street lamps in the immediate vicinity the light fog had a glow to it and the grass glistened with moisture.

Jasper slowed his pace after realizing he had walked a great distance farther than the parks borders should actually allow, but upon turning around he noticed the fog was much more dense than it had been previously and there was not a single landmark to orient himself with. Jasper was quietly trying to explain the situation to himself when a creeping panic began to override his logic. He began to pace back and forth through the fog, determined to find a familiar tree, or rock, or anything he could identify as an exit path with no luck. Suddenly he came across a short wooden bench he had never encountered before but paid it little attention. Though he continued in what was believed to be a straight line the same bench continuously crossed his path. Exhausted, irritated, and fearful of his present predicament, Jasper sat on the bench to rest and collect his thoughts.

As Jasper was sitting with his head in his hands, lamenting the fog and the cold he was now feeling, he became aware of another presence and glanced up to find a beautiful woman with a slight smile on her face. His first thought was of how bright and full of life her eyes were but then, after remembering how utterly lost he was, his focus shifted to curiosity and, again, desperation.

"Good evening miss, I was wondering if you knew the way out of the park? I seem to have lost my way" Jasper inquired, trying to mask his nervous panic.
"Lost your way? That has got to be the most original opening line I have heard in a long while" She spoke in a playful but sweet voice, continuing to smile."Mind if I have a seat? I love evenings like this in the park"
"Not at all, my name is Jasper...I live down the street. I come here all the time" Somehow the anxiety disappearing, he wondered less and less about where the exit was and gestured her to sit.
"So you come here often yet your lost? You either have a terrible sense of direction or your even worse at flirting"

Jasper smiled at this remark, noting that yes he was indeed out of practice when it came to talking with the opposite sex. There was something oddly comfortable about this girl, who revealed that her name was Natalie and that she in fact lived the opposite direction down the same street. They talked for what seemed like hours about anything and everything, completely ignoring the unchanging landscape around them until a strange whistle broke through the fog.

"What was that?" Jasper remarked with a startle.
"Oh that just means its time" She said with an even, matter of fact tone.
"Time for wha......."

When Jasper awoke he was back home on his bed. Confused and shocked his first instinct was to get dressed and bolt back to the park. It was morning and there was not a hint of fog or even a cloud in the sky. In but a few moments he had reached his destination, and even shorter still was the trek across the length of the entire park. Never was there any sign of the mysterious bench, nor of Natalie.