dalena | 25 | counting fancies
a dancer with mosaic
working at the learning lab
4th feb 1986
clearing out her wardrobe
eric & serene
desktop tower defence
go fug yourself
oh no they didn't
pink is the new blog
the butterfly tales
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Fate must have somewhat of a morbid humour, because the way things are turning out are both a little sad yet funny at the same time. Everything I've previously tried so hard to control and stop is now doing a brisk spin to catch me by surprise and smack me soundly in my face.
I feel a little detached from everything, like I'm a mere observer of everything going on - including my life - like I'm just sitting in this otherworldly chair carved out of cold marble, placed strategically so I have a birds' eye view of the world. And I'm just sitting here, watching myself live my pretense of a life, watching the world go by. Being in this position feels rather queer, I must admit, yet it leaves me darkly and distantly amused. I'm very much like a puppetmaster who has lost control over her puppets, watching the controlling strings break in random succession.
Sometimes I can't believe the things that've happened, as everything feels so wrong yet so right at the same time. I keep throwing various facets of my life away, one Dalena-puppet after another, out of the window, simply because I cannot understand them, and I dislike not understanding things. I keep throwing them and getting new shiny ones, in hope that the next will be better and more perfect. But it's time for me to learn that not everything has an answer to it. Life is not all about black and white or yes and no, it is about the hues that lie between. It's not an either or scenario, life is about millions of possibilities and what ifs and dreams and ponderings that never go away. Nothing's perfect, nothing's ever always because or why, there are times when you have to admit that something is just is and there is no reason to it.
I look out of my otherworldly window and watch my dusty pile of life's contradictions grow steadily, accumulating more and more debris from my abandoned puppets, discarded and unwanted because I was simply too immature to acknowledge the value of silent acceptance. It irks me, because it just goes to show how much of myself I've been throwing away in the past 19 years, and how much has gone to waste because of my insane quest for the perfect and the impossible.
So I gaze morosely at my broken strings, and I watch my puppet dance in life alone. Maybe it's time to throw the strings away and let her live her own life for herself. Instead of changing puppet after puppet (all of them poor creatures, shackled to the tyrant owner who always wants everything her way and nothing less than that), why not grant her freedom, slave to nobody else save for fickle Fate.
Afterall, I don't see why I can't be both observer and participant of my life at the same time?