Ward of Reconditioning

Frustration clouds my energy like a small room full of smokers, and I’m the green one that wandered in lost. It’s a frustrating brew of my understanding others, with increasing Wins in being misunderstood. A heaping cup of loving energy rejected by a bowl marked “No Expectations Involving You.” Add to that about an inch of duct tape covering my authentic mouth, but we all know tape doesn’t stick well to moist surfaces. Damp with the overflow of a damaged, undefeatable heart, and a marathon focused mind. Never stopping, just pouring and pouring. My soul runs and floods the floor.. And out the door.

 

Where does the wounded optimistic soldier go to nurse her own wounds? Somewhere….Quiet, Alone, and all too Familiar. A place without windows so my soul can recondition itself. Detaching the human elements of self to severe the stimuli. My pillow reads Indifference. Laying my humaneness on the bench until my inner coach puts them back into the arena. Maybe it’s the benched others that took me out the game.

 

Dont worry. Frustration doesn’t last for long cause love is the skin that I’m living in. It’s the energy that tingles your neck in my presence. It’s the foundation of time, and understanding that I give to others. It’s light upon my path. This moment of frustration is my self imposed box. Don’t worry about me… Just reconditioning…until I stand behind the next mic baring my soul before an audience prone to throwing tomatoes, and quizzical unexamined glances and jabs. My vet status ensures that life goes on….*hangs Sabbatical sign on mic stand*