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It is What it Is.

As I was reminded yesterday, "In life we have many chapters." For some reason I find comfort in comparing my life to non life- and as I typed that I realized that I've compared my life before to books, to chapters, caterpillars, and to butterflies-- all of which are a form of life --fantasy or real-- all of which are things that have "chapters" or natural progression. After having my eye on a new book, the first thing I do is smell it, feel it, flip through it. After reading it sometime- I progress- chapter by chapter. It doesn't necessarily mean I can't go back to a previous one. As does everyone else, when I read a novel, I read chronologically, then when I pick up on a theme I'll go back and re-read that theme into a previously read chapter- searching for the hints and clues. It's my style. I like to be able to deconstruct things. I habitually over-analyze my thoughts so I can be sure of myself. I like to be able to go back and see things the second time that I didn't the first. Sometimes new chapters can be scary. You aren't really sure how the book will end- where it will turn, when it will stop, why it continues- but what I do know is this- you can't put it down. You aren't done until you are done. It takes up your energy, your time, and all the quiet in your mind fills up. You might even check out other novels by that author since you like their style. You get "stuck." Your focus on one thing makes everything else in your life unfocused. I was later reminded yesterday that those feelings are "organized chaos"- to make it easy on yourself, go with the confusion; it "comfortable-uncomfortableness" Even though you don't understand it--love it (it isn't permanent) -- it's organized chaos.

1 comment:

  1. Some would say I am very superficial. I tend to open a book if-and only- if the cover catches my optics. The author may have taken me through a mind bottling experience in my past life, but how do I know that a name of fame, will satisfy this pain again? Damn, I search and I finally find that cover as I entered a new isle in my favorite bookstore. Its cover is smooth, decorated with blond outlines on the outer pages. Its letters are well defined. I stared at it for several weeks. Insane behavior--I know! But I had to be sure! I have crossed many beautiful books in my life but this one was different. It's like we both said, "Take me!" with our eyes and my spontaneous visits. I took it off the shelf because I knew it was lonely. It needed to be held. I knew and felt it wanted to speak to me so I bought it. I put time on the side to devote to it. With no hesitation, I opened it. It spoke to me and I instantly felt all the hurt, pain and loneliness. Instant connection! We became 1. Each chapter brings us closer together. Never been the one to skim through before Read, so I have no clue of how many chapters my book contains. I lay in my truck, in the park (my secret place) and we both ride the waves. I have reach chapter 6 and the book has not climaxed. I get excited! Whew, I have never met an author that worked me this much! I'm tired; however, I push myself more to stay awake and focus to reach the end. Its 7 hrs later and I reached the end. However, to my surprise, I am left hung. There is actually no ending. Damn. My first thrill! A good and clever author, they manage to lure you in with innocence, get you attached and pleased--only to get you to come back for more. Why are there no endings? Infinite sequels, I'm finished, but I may not like the cover of the other book. This is definitely organized chaos. I am caught in the thrill. However, "I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul!" It is what it is!