Man, life is sure as hell a long and winding road, ain’t it?

 I mean, I have heard all of the standard analogies about the straight and narrow path. Or even euphemisms about the road of life having many tempting exits and opportunities to stray from the path we should be traveling on.

I have even used them myself, sparkling little gems; like take one step at a time or comparing life to a series of simple, straightforward choices to move towards a goal we have chosen. 

I have heard life compared to a jogging path or maybe more like an endurance runners long distance route. On this path there is a direct and easy to follow roadway adorned with road signs to help guide you along ad yes; there are a great many exits and detours to confuse us, we simply need to focus on the path in front of us and take one step forward to continue forward motion.

I always wonder whose life this is, with these simple and easy to follow paths with so many road signs to guide them and help them make their way? Certainly not mine! My path is littered with obstacles and it sure as hell doesn’t have any nice firm roadway to assist my journey. As a matter of fact, it isn’t firm at all, but is a quagmire that sucks at my feet and makes every step a battle of wills.

No effortless, gliding jog for me, each step is a fight and I find myself not making any progress whatsoever. On top of the battle for each and every step, where are the damned road signs already! I can’t seem to find a single thing to help me and I seem to wind up lost more than having a clue as to where I am or what I am doing. AND, where in the pure bloody HELL are the rest stops!

I have been thinking of life, of the analogy about the path and all; because I had a sort of revelation the other day. Someone was talking about living life and I realized that I am not. I am not living, not really even existing so much; it is more like I am just in limbo waiting for it (life) to end. I am not trudging forward; I am just sitting in the swampy muck and watching life pass me by. I sit waiting (not encouraging or anything!) for death to find me because that is all that there seems to BE for me. It is the only thing I know is coming in my life and part of me yearns for the “end” of it all.

My life is just this enormous vacuum, an endless and empty hollow crying out for completion and satisfaction. I am no longer moving along the road, nor am I sitting on the shoulder watching traffic go by. I am just plopped down in the slow lane and sitting here alone, not really paying much attention, just sitting here slowly dying.

Sorry to sound like such a downer, I have just had that thought pinging around in my mind the past week or so. I am not living, nor am I existing; I am simply slowly dying.