Obsession

Obsession plays like a record stuck in one place, the needle heavily bound not to move out of its moat. An occasional skip sending it on but not for long.  Go back, go back to that place.  I want to stop there and stir for life.  It was good, it was happy, it was contentment, it  was permanent wasn’t it?  The fuel inside festers…..embers swell…but I stay cool outside because that’s what I’m supposed to do.  Be complacent, obedient, nonjudgmental, things will change, I’m wrong, I’m weak. No, no, no – this isn’t right, a tiny voice calls out.  It’s the same play, the same acts, the same actors, the script written in permanent ink.  That’s damning “obsession” playing misery to the hilt.  Pity comes too, they all gather together in a circle yelling out their own narcissist plots.  Then they jump into a pool of “doom” joining as one.  Yeah, they think they have it made, snickering amongst themselves.  They don’t know that “doom” is not permanent.  Its outer shell seems like steel but its rubber in disguise susceptible to punctures and ultimately unworthy.  A jolt busts the corral, kicks down the fence, boots the bad asses good-bye, stares down all that look back and says it’s time to unload the cargo and hit the highway.  They meet hope and faith who show them compassion and kindness.  They say the bad guys will always be nearby, may even fake their way in again but that a higher power always exists – the mind – our thoughts – our reactions.