I didn’t want the weekend to come because my structure would be gone and without the proper planning I would be faced with, once again, being utterly alone. Because that’s what zombies are, alone…even in a crowd of people, in a morass of human souls that is a large city, surrounded by wall to wall people – zombies are alone.
I said, zombies are alone!
And my structure is gone – all week I have a time and place and all week I have people to interact with and friends that are not necessarily only friends because they are paid to be there but friends none-the-less – and then the weekend hits.
Now, to be fair, I have been doing so much better in my development of socialization and emotional maturity: going out, making advanced plans, staying in the moment. But it’s still not enough to fill the time and as I ride that line between abandonment and inundation, no one can get in to do either or neither. There is just nothing there, on that line but now I am learning to better allot my time like society and weekend habits…
I don’t want the weekend to be here
Because my world has always just been me, right or wrong, that was just what I thought and what I believed, and the conflict there is that that solitary world was never enough, ‘I’ was never enough for me but ‘I’ was all the I had ever known. All I ever knew was to be at conflict inside with being who I was.
I’ve always gotten heart-heaviness, hard weights on the chest on weekends, like all week I could forget that I was alone or would be alone and avoid the sadness but then here it comes. And the insipid thing in all this is that I thought I was at the capricious whim of a dark god or a cruel-ish fate but was really my own puppet master; I was the one directing this drama.
I wanna go home, I wanna go home
When I get my heart set on something, ‘set’ means that it won’t move and it gets focused and it can see no other outcome than between great and awful. But I am learning that the outcome is a result of the process as a whole and that by holding everything so black and white and so tightly and so fearfully, I was creating just that – fear and alone.
A zombie can move, a zombie can be nimble, a zombie can change, a zombie can sit back and relax to stop the fight-flight that has him lurching between emotions, at mercy of those emotions and in a constant heightened state of being.
I pray that I just might find that I do want to be here…