How ironic that sleep is an illusive thought lately. Like a thread that will not mate with the needle. I really don't know what is going on. Usually I sleep too much. But it was pointed it out to me today, that I may be experiencing a "mid-life crisis". At age 35, I sincerely hope 70 is not my end.
I openly cried at a painting I keep over the sofa in the living room. Stared at it. Stared at it until I thought it might become a chalk drawing from Mary Poppins, and I could jump in and be part of it. Live it. Smell it. Taste it. Breathe it in and never exhale. Forever have it be part of me. For I know this painting well. To the point of visualizing every detail about the inside of the house, from squeaking floor boards to how the morning sun peaks through the windows, to a vineyard that has yet to be harvested, and hot air balloons that are so fresh on their morning journey, they've yet to crest the mountains they seek to rise above. My heart aches for that one moment visualized. I wait. But my patience is thin.
Orphanage and schooling.
I want to finish school. I want a culinary degree, but do not want to take courses that have no use in my discipline. I do not require Biology, Algerbra, or the Mating Habits of Dung Beetles in Africa. I need Culinary Mathematics, Business Management, and how to properly make the "Mother Sauces". Tools for a great Chef. Oh, and a proper omellette. I seriously SUCK a fat one when it comes to omellettes. Sometimes I'm genius. Most times, not so much. Room temperature butter and eggs. OBVIOUSLY. The wrist and flipping that fucking pan so the mess ends up IN the pan and not on my stove top? FAIL. EPIC FAIL. A work in perpetual progress.
I seem to have a deep belief that I need to be an orphan before I can truly visualize my dreams. Not Daddy, but Mumah holds me. Binds me. I've said it before: she is an enabler, but only if it suits HER wants. What about setting your children free and letting them fly on their own? Not enabling them to create bad habits and behavior. Not having them be forever dependent upon you, that they cannot survive on their own. Holding them in your space until you no longer need them, want them, have use for them. I obviously still have unresolved issues. Some thoughts go too deep.
I had an epiphany this evening. Children. Several reasons why we procreate. Foremost, to love them, teach them, family line, etc.. But I also see now it's because THROUGH children, parents can be young again. See themselves in their children, in genes yes, but more so in getting another chance. For themselves. To live forever. But what if you had kids for the wrong reason? What if you had them because you're supposed to have them? And never loved them. Never wanted them in the first place, and put all your pain, hurt, and misery on an unsuspecting, perfect vessel? Wanting all the wonderful things for them, after a fashion and when it was convenient for you, only to have them turn out damaged, hurt, and completely fucked in the head anyway.
Parents, friends, and family reading this, do not attack me. I had an epiphany today, and it made all the sense in the world. A fear of getting old, a fear of death, and a fear of having no worth in this life. I know this is not a new idea, and I know that it's taken me all these years to figure it out, but I feel enlightened. Am I responsible in thought alone to HAVE a child? I don't think so.
But there may be time for me just yet. And I mean that on many, MANY levels.
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