road rage

...How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes, I struggle to find any truth in your lies, And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know, This weakness I feel I must finally show...


It started with a movie set in Rio de Janeiro, a reminder of the impending wedding of a boy from the past, the misplacement of hours worth of solutions imperative to the successful outcome of an experiment and finally an angry man in a large grey truck yelling at me demanding i go faster. Literally yelling at me,while driving 65  miles per hour going down the highway. His large head sticking out of his large grey window, with his stringy hair blowing back into his eyes as he screamed, asking why in the world I was slowing down when passing a police car parked on the shoulder. While going 65 miles per hour.

That was the tipping point.

I was done.

I am done being stuck. I am done playing the game according to everyone else's rules. I am done letting others make the decisions that determine my happiness.

The reminder of where my soul longs to be, the heartbreak that was long long ago that still mysteriously and frustratingly weighs heavy on my heart, the feelings of inadequacy because I haven't worked long enough for a certain science company, and the bald man yelling woke my sleeping gypsy soul I had lulled into complacency.

Kansas City is where I live. It is where friends are and is close by to family, but I don't think I will ever be able to settle down here. I feel often like I am trying to squeeze myself into a shell that is too small for me. I don't ever see the signs of life in this big city. Life doesn't happen on the streets, but in little houses and personal cars. This isn't how I want to live. I want to interrupt my commute with a stop at the bagel stand down the street. I want to feel comfortable taking a coffee break with others to work on relationships rather than another experiment.

I don't want science to be a business. I don't want to fit in. I want to be challenged. I want to be able to tell people that I have done something exciting the night before, rather than say I stayed at home. I want to work with my hands. I want to work with real people. The ones who have struggles and desires like mine. The ones who aren't all about making another dollar.

I don't think I have to be overseas to achieve these desires, but I do need a little help, and maybe a little direction, and definitely another run-in with the yelling bald man. I have a few things I need to tell him.

...Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all, But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall, Lend me your eyes I can change what you see, But your soul you must keep, totally free...
...Awake my soul...
...awake my soul...
...Awake my soul...