i was eating sour punch bites strawberry, of course and drinking gatorade to keep from falling asleep at the wheel. which wasn't hard, because i wasn't particularly tired. my mind was racing...
when you have two hours to kill round trip in a car, you have a lot of time to think. i thought. and i thought about life. my life, in particular, because it's the life that i'm truly confused about.
i've always hated puzzles. detested. loathed. i will never understand what my mother, my sister, and my grandmother find desirable in them, because they bore me to tears. i'm impatient. i want the picture done because the process kills me.
neverending blues that look the same, patterns of flowers and landscapes and ocean that mesh together to make an intangible picture that will seemingly never make anything beautiful.
my life to me is a puzzle. which sounds cliche in all senses of the phrase, but it truly is.
i look at the chaotic pieces of my life with the neverending trials and homework and questions...pictures that don't seem to come into focus. i just see those insipid pieces. singularly alone and taunting me, knowing that they don't make any sense.
but, i guess, i know i need to have patience. each piece has its purpose. each seemingly identical blue and cluster of flowers has a specific place in the puzzle; each with distinct differences undiscernable to my eyes.
and in the end, someday, the confusion and the chaos and the frustration will come together to make
my question is: how do you enjoy putting the pieces together?