I tire. The weight is too much.
The choices are so numerous…
I can’t think clearly. Too much noise.
The door is closed already. I get up and shut the window.
Now the voices are silent. No more noises.
Still it is too much.
The chair. It beckons me. I am easily persuaded.
I retire to its comforting arms.
So quiet… so relaxing.
Someone is at the door. No. They are already inside.
He has snuck in. It is too late. He overpowers me.
I don’t know where he is taking me, only that I must follow.
We arrive at a door. I walk through, and my eyes behold Her.
I turn to ask my captor who She is, but I have lost him in the fog.
He could not have left me. I would know it. Yet, I see him not.
She is drawing nearer, beautiful beyond words, and so full of mystery.
In Her all my ambitions are realized, all my hopes given reason.
I sit down to contemplate what She could mean to me, and all She could bring.
She draws nearer still, radiating through the mist.
How happy I will be when She reaches me, stretching out Her arms to envelop me.
She is almost upon me. I close my eyes in quiet anticipation.
I can almost feel Her joy encompassing me, Her contentment surrounding me.
Something is wrong.
I open my eyes.
Where has She gone?
There, behind me. But She is walking away.
How can this be? I had waited so patiently.
I run, trying to catch Her, but it is too late.
She has disappeared into the fog.
I stand alone. Confused.
A ringing, then silence. I look out to find the source, but see only the white haze.
Again the ringing. Again the silence.
The vapors begin to clear.
My surroundings become apparent.
A third ring. Leaping up, I answer it, but it is too late. Again I have been passed by.
The chair and its eternal apathy call to me once more.
…this time I stall.
No. This must not continue. I turn to the door, and walk out.
Let the world pass by the chair. I have things to do.
I have my life to live, and I intend to live it to the Fullest.
The first part of this writing is about the writer (me) developing an apathy for life. Under the weight of all of life’s pressures, giving up and just sitting down seems like the best idea. After he sits down, he drifts to sleep (the kidnapper), and then dreams of his future (the woman) drawing closer, but passing him by. He tries to catch it, but it is too late. After waking up, the dream inspires him not to just let his life happen around him, but to go out and make it happen the way he wants it to.
This is something that I have to learn for myself over and over again. Sometimes it is on a small scale, sometimes on a larger, life-size scale. If I just sit around and expect a future of happiness to come to me, then I will lose any chance I had to attain it in the first place. That is why I need to go out and make my life what I want it to be. When life gives you sore feet, don’t just sit down in a chair and give up. Kick life in the shin, then forget about it and move on.