Cowardly...

I've been hiding for a year now, behind the veil known as grief. I blamed it all on circumstances and refused to open my eyes and see things for what they really are. Not that I didn't try but it's some how comforting to stay unhappy than to work on myself. Could it be that I crave pity without knowing it? If the attention is there, then it makes life almost bearable. Then maybe I'm not alone.

Maybe I should stop for awhile. Maybe I'll find myself standing there with more to offer the world than I could possibly imagine. Instead of letting life pass me by in a blur, I should take a chance and sit still for a minute, or two. Smell the coffee that I've been so blindly sipping.

2008 was about developing phobias without reason. 2009, I will look for clarity.

---------------------------------

Mavis, 25 years old, likes the feeling of moving forward at the beginning of a breaststroke with her arms stretched, toes pointed, and eyes closed.