lines

I find myself wondering how many lines it actually takes to make a cube. Because I feel like lines have suddenly be drawn where I didn't see them before and to be honest I already feel boxed in. I am who I have always been and it seems parts of me must be stifled, amputated even, to keep the peace.

I am a big, loud, emotional person with very limited internal censors. I have always been thus. I speak my mind, I broach taboos subjects, I have very little use for the words "it's none of your business." I don't do well with limits. I tell people more than is appropriate. I speak often without being spoken to. I ask too many questions. I wonder too often, about things that may, indeed, be none of my business...but that doesn't stop me from wondering.

If that is not good enough, or if it is simply too much, I'm not sure I can apologize. I'm not sure I want to.

And I'm tired of having these lines drawn for me.


"And if you must put me in a box
Make sure it's a big box
With lots of windows
And a door to walk through
And a nice high chimney
So we can burn burn burn
Everything that we don't like
And watch the ashes
Fly up to Heaven..."

Dan Bern ~ Jerusalem

ps: if there is a note of passive aggression in this, I do apologize for that. I am venting. I am purging. I am trying to make sense of something I'm feeling. I am not trying to express any veiled anger. There is none. It's just that I have been feeling these limits placed on me from a number of directions and I don't know what to do with them. And so I vent, and this is the open book that is me.