My mind has been in the clouds lately. All these thoughts, aspirations and wants changing at the speed of a kid's attention span.
I think about the ramifications and swayed by others. I'm like putty in their hands.
At a somber moment I had a flashback of silly putty. You know, the cheap toy moms everywhere used to buy a wailing kid in the supermarket.
Silly putty is similar to the crazy ideas I toss out in the ether. They are as limitless as a child's imagination as they play around with the pink tinted concoction.
In my heart I'm a writer. Ideas often bounce off of a fragmented thought and mold into something completely different.
Silly putty can stretch out in strings and bounce like a ball. However, if a sharp impact occurs it breaks. That is how fragile a writer's observations are.
That is how fragile we are at times.
Immature ideas are trite and outlandish yet not as permanent like hardened clay.
I wonder if I'm just frustrated over my career or relationships in my life. I want to run around the globe writing about travels. My feet want to feel sore and blistered from the travel, my shoes want to be worn out.
Have you ever become lost in thought about taking a job out of state? Daydreamed about a hot kiss with someone? Yearned for the days when life was carefree?
It would be tragic to indulge. Too many hurt feelings, loss of reputation and stability. As humans we are paranoid and think risk, RISK, RISK.
Perhaps we need to learn a new word. Chance. CHANCE, CHANCE.
I question if the fear of the unknown keeps us from what we want? The odd thing is putty stains if caked on clothes.
Trust me, I have washed putty on jeans. It just sticks. Could that be what happens to happiness if we don't follow it? The concept diminishes but fragments appear imprinted on our denim souls forever.
For some reason, I've been partial to Playdough. There are so many products out there to distort and manipulate it. It is bright and comes in different colors. Playdough molds easier and has a good texture to it.
I love flashy and transforming ideas. With all the bells and whistles it seems more appealing to cave to those type of wants.
Either way when we don't do what we want, our heart's desires dry out and become brittle. The slightest criticism spoken and all is shattered.
Often my skin is flushed or pale, However, malleable is not a word to describe me. I am not putty in someone's hands.
I am not silly.