Platoon: Lost in a Jungle

   I promised myself I wouldn't go here; that I wouldn't let myself get raw and over my head. Things happen though and even the most confident phat girl can trip and fall.

   And damn, I fell down the rabbit hole with this one.

   Why do things have to be so complicated and utterly confusing? Why can't life work like mathematics all the time? One solution, one answer, one way. No alternate routes to get to the last sticking equation; just a simple answer without the bullshit in between. What happens when you find yourself lost in foreign territory engulfed in a fog of unfamiliar scenarios. Things that you know are not the norm or socially acceptable in any sense, but you are still compelled to go deeper through the brush and get swallowed up into a fog.

    I wish I could just spill every raw emotion onto this canvas without sounding like a dreadful person; without the worry of what the people I love think. It's hard though and sometimes I feel like I have to keep myself shut away in fear of disapproval.

    I like a guy with a closet full of disjointed skeletons. I like a guy that makes me forget to put my guard walls up. I like a guy that approves of my unhealthy love for Aqua Teen Hunger Force, gets my dark humor, and can make me laugh when I'm feeling my worst. He's the kind of guy I've always wanted, but those skeletons continue to rattle against the empty coat hangers and tap against the door. A constant, distant reminder that things are taboo right now.

    My mother always says that God never gives you anything you can't handle. She also says everything happens for a reason. In this case, what the hell is the reason? I keep waiting, with baited breath, for the fog to lift so I can find my way home, but it just seems to get thicker and colder.

   I guess my trouble is finding out what you should do when you are lost. What you should think when those skeletons of the past polish up those old bones and come knocking at your chamber door at night when your body feels so weak with exhaustion, but your mind remains alert and on edge. Do you plug your ears, count to ten, twenty, one hundred and one and hope it will all quiet down? Do you remain on your bruised knees and quake as you pray to an unseen god for a sign, an answer, a renewed hope? When does the complexity of a situation that you just so happened to trip into by lonely drunken stupor morph into that simple math equation. 1 + 1= 2 or 2 - 1 = 1?

    Everything comes with a risk, but why can't life be a little less chaotic? When do you decide to fall into the waters below to get washed away or to fight hard against the tide? When does the everyday gambler fold their cards and say enough is enough?

   Someday, the confusion will conclude with an answer, I'm sure, but I get impatient. I want solutions right away, I guess that is the banker in me. Regardless, I hope I get that answer sooner rather than later and, most importantly, I hope it is the right answer.

    Thanks loves for listening to my midnight rambling. I apologize for being all emotastic, cynical, and having no regard for my grammar (yup, I'm not great at editing my own shit, so bear with me).

Giving Love (or, in my case, infactuation) A Bad Name,
Dee Dee

Thickspiration: A stronger, happier me. Your thickspiration? You...you should always be your #1.