It seems I’m back to feeling like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, again.  After two years of fighting what felt like (and were!) non-stop problems, I’m trying to get my life back on track…again.

I’ve never liked that analogy.  I don’t even recall reading the book.  I probably found it boring.  What is its suggested reading level? You have to recall, I was reading Shakespeare and uni. Psych textbooks when I was around 10, or so.  The former out of curiosity, and the latter to try and “fix” my mentally ill mother.  God knows it was up to me to do it!  No one else surely cared!

So, I probably skipped little Alice up there because she didn’t interest me.  Either that, or maybe her “adventure” resonated a bit too much with me.  I was actually living it–and more.

Ah, the irony? Which is really the core of this post.  I could say it is the core of my life, but would I be pulling a bit of a Shakespeare on myself?  Being just a tad too dramatic? Nonetheless, a lot of it does exist in my life.  And far too much for my liking.

Although, perhaps on this spectrum of irony, annoying at best, unbelievably painful at worst, out pops a surprise when I am subjected to it.  Something good even? Or at least something that may alleviate a burden on that vast spectrum.  Maybe?

In a literary sense, irony can be used as a plot device to create humour, and sometimes in a very twisted way.  I rather enjoy that, and find it quite entertaining.  However, in my life, irony becomes so twisted, it results in a tangled knot, roughly the size of the continent of Africa.  I do not find this enjoyable or entertaining at all, as a lot of the time, I can barely tie (or untie) my own shoelaces!

I guess I would have to say that “Africa” shows up most in my relationships.  As if they weren’t complicated enough to begin with! And the majority of those “beginnings” result in endings.  In fact, most do.

Now, enter my little “pop-out surprise!” Have a few of those endings yielded new beginnings? If the relationship still exists, but has taken on a different form or shape, is that a new beginning? Maybe it only looks like one.  If I have been left alone, is that in itself a new beginning? Or, has me being left alone made me create a new beginning.  If I’ve done it, how do I know it’s a new beginning? When I’ve done it, maybe it’s just led me to the fact that it’s really not a new beginning at all.  That’s simply because there are no new beginnings.  There is only repetition.  And that repetition is endless.

Are you still with me? Or have you just landed in some foreign continent that looks like “Africa?”  Take another look around.  You’ve just lost all your luggage, your Passport’s been torn in half, and you were the only one on the plane.  Even the flight crew managed to disappear.

Welcome to my world.

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