Monday, January 30, 2012

Being Sick is Driving me Crazy

I now have five heads, each one slightly larger, attached together in a train. I arrange each one on a pillow before I can sleep. My eyes are too many to close at once. They close in intervals counting to prime numbers. Before I can sleep, my pillows cry out to me asking for help because the blankets are hogging up too much of bed and they don't feel as if they have enough space. One of the blankets decided that it would rather go sleep in another room until this whole fiasco is over. After I get my heads in order, I might go join it.

The lions and the tigers don't bother me so much anymore. They've realized that I'm no longer interested in being frightened sold they teeth on eBay so they could buy a deck of cards and play Gin Rummy. Now they only bother me to help them sign into paypal to see if they payment went through.

Before he died, my stuffed Rabbit was the best listener I've ever had. Since he's died, he's even better.

The world does seem to turn on a pin. It spins one way, and then the other. I don't know if it's me who keeps changing directions but I get lost fairly easily.

This must be what it's like to get old. Sleep for only a few hours... wake up coughing... take some medicine... wake up really sweaty about an hour later... everything I do is in slow motion. I get up in slow motion, eat in slow motion (normal speed for me), drive, walk, everything really slow. And on top of that, everything makes me tired. I want to take a nap after a shower, after a meal, after everything. Getting sick must be what getting old feels like.

Monday, January 09, 2012

The Lobster and the Riverbed.

She was red like a rusted firetruck or an old farmhouse hidden in the shade by a large sycamore tree. The lobster climbed up the dried riverbank through the hot sun. She rested in the shade for a bit. The riverbed was as dry burnt toast, but there was a faint rumble up ahead. The lobster traversed up the riverbed a little more, walking around the large smooth stones and stumbling through the small smooth pebbles.

Suddenly, she came upon a wall. The wall blocked off the entire riverbed. It was impossible to climb over. Up in the distance, she believed there was water. She traveled too far to turn back. With her claws, she started pinching the wall. Over and over again, she pinched and pinched.

After what seemed like hours, the wall grew damp. She kept pinching. A leak sprung out and squirted water down her shell. She kept pinching. As the stream of water grew, she dug her feet into the riverbed to keep from being washed away. When the current got to be almost unbearable, she sidestepped out of the flow and started pinching another part of the wall. Soon, she found the wall to be damp there too. She kept pinching. Water started squirting out of that wall too, and when she could stand it no longer, she moved to another part of the wall. She kept pinching.

When her work was done, she rested in the gentle flow of the restored river. She stretched out on a rock and tried to ignore the beavers who were yelling at her from on shore.

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

I Tried.

The stars are out. I tried to count, but lost track after only a few.

The sky is big. I tried to measure it with my hands, but my arms aren't long enough.

The ground is so hard. I pushed against it and tried to move it, but it wouldn't budge.

So is the love God has given me for you.