||[Nov. 27th, 2009|01:48 am]
It's been a while since I've posted on this journal. Nothing much has happened, or maybe it has, it obviously has, events just happen and i try to weather them as best I can. |
Driving home the other night, I had a conversation with myself, which is more like listening than anything. I can't say much, I ended up crying. I feel like I'm going down a road parallel to the one I really truly want to be on. They go over pretty much of the same terrain, same hills, same bumps in the road, same scenery, almost. I guess the perspective is different. Granted, I can't tell what the perspective is, no more than I can tell you what the view is from over there, but of course it's radically different.
If i could summarise my conversation with myself, or what I could get from eavesdropping, however you'd like to put it, is I'm not in the drivers seat. I almost never have been. The closest way to saying how I feel is that I've been in the passenger seat of my life while someone else has been driving. While I've been staring at scenery, things keep moving.
Why can't I just look at scenery? I don't want to drive, I'm not ready to drive.