Feeling trapped? I'm starting to feel trapped, literally! For the first time in a year, I am unable to physically leave my house because of the snow. Yes, I know this happens about every year, but surprisingly, it still shocks me every time. I'm looking outside and I can't see anything but white, and everything - my pond, my driveway, and entire garden is under a blanket of snow. Yup, I could definitely drown in that blanket :S - but looks like if I ever want to get out, somebody's going to have to do some shoveling - and honestly, I don't see myself doing that anytime soon, so for now, i'm going to make a comfortable existence indoors by the fire, in front of my laptop. It sure is going to be a white Christmas.
The fact that I used the word "TRAPPED" to describe my state is rather interesting because i'm pretty convinced that being trapped (with the exception of some more extreme cases) is more of a mental state. I'm sure if I really wanted to get out, I could, because I know for sure that I don't want to be inside the house for 3 weeks. However, there's also a (much stronger) force inside me that really doesn't want to be out in the cold - but that isn't actually me being trapped - it's me choosing to be more comfortable indoors - and that is a conscious choice of mine, not an unfortunate circumstance like the snow. Do I really want to go outside right now? If I really do want to, then why don't I? Because ____insert reason here____. (And no that reason is not "because i'm trapped.") The sense of being trapped is more hopeless, and if we want to be happy and not "bored" (as a lot of people say they are) then we should find things to do that make us feel better and not worse, in the long and short term.
It seems that mental obstacles are the reason we feel we cannot go places, like we can't get out of bed, like we can't get out of the house, like we are trapped in a cubicle and cannot break free. Those obstacles are what keep us from reaching goals, from feeling like we might not be able to reach them for whatever reason...but I think there is always a way out of feeling confined in negative feelings. Sure, it might not come to you naturally overnight, but there are little things you can do, whether it means going for a walk, meditating, taking a bubble bath, writing, planning, studying, reading a book, or calling up your relative on the other side of the world. Possibilities are endless and there are so many reasons we shouldn't feel trapped, in any sense of the word. So think about it, if you ever feel trapped, why should you feel like that if we are more than able to go out and shovel ourselves free?
This poem was something I based off of a short story I wrote...
it fits in nicely :D
Boredom Apocolyptia
Quiet streets,
Nothing seen
But that old house
Down the street.
It gives me the creeps
But 70 weeks,
Six days, 11 hours -
is how long I’ve been
in this hole for.
Beauty, splendor…
I know you
no more.
My peephole
To the outside
Gets smaller each day.
I see, rats, roaches
Dogs, cats - strays,
Tumbleweeds nearby
Flaming cadavers
Falling from the sky
As they feed
The rancid soil outside
My peephole.
I would say it does
No use to cry
If I don’t know how,
I don’t know what,
I don’t know why
Inside, outside
Things are
The way they are.
My peephole
Doesn’t reach
That far.
But I see that house -
That rundown
Once-lovely house.
White wood, it rots off
In slow motion
As filthy wind
Makes the chips
Flutter away like
Butterflies.
Oh, how I miss
Butterflies.
The painted yellow stripes
On the door
Remind me of sunshine,
Golden rays running free.
Am I crazy or
Are the rays shifting
Away from me?
The red tiled slick roof
as of late
takes on the
strange shape of
A dinner plate,
which chips away too,
as its perfect fiery tones
take on a regular
rain of stones.
I see that house.
I want to break out
Of this gutter
Pick at the wood chips
To see if it was real,
See the colors
Close enough to feel,
Knock on the door
Like a heartbeat,
Check for signs of life
Say, “hi, I’m the girl
Down the street,
And would it be
too much of me
To ask for
a cup of sugar? Or
to come over
For a cup of tea?”
Maybe someone
Would answer.
Maybe there was someone
Inside just like me.
But I can’t get out of here.
I’ve tried everything.
I’ve scratched
Every corner of this
Hell-hole
Till my fingernails
Fell off and bled.
I’ve screamed to god
To let anyone hear
The restless
Souls in my head
But outside
The burning corpses
They don’t ever listen
They don’t have the ears
Or the heart to listen.
They’ll never help me escape,
They are too tired.
Dead tired.
As I am tired,
Tired of seeing how
The world came to be,
How I came to be,
Through this rusty hole
In the pavement.
Sun sets,
The house disappears,
As I disappear into
The darkness.
I’ll watch myself away,
Watch my torn fingers
vanish before
My eyes,
Right on time
Just like clockwork,
I lose the day
I’ll scream for help
Until my voice goes rough
Like sandpaper -
But it’s not enough,
Like all the nights
I’ve screamed before,
And just like before,
The shrill sound
Will stick to this
Fortress overgrown.
My voice, the only
voice I’ve known,
For the past 70 weeks,
Six days, 11 hours…
And I’m still alone.
My eyes are getting tired
But I’m more tired of watching
That ugly sky
Change to black
And then back to gray.
I don’t know
If I can stand this for
another day.
