Static Continuity

The humdrum is never ho-hum. Live a little. Escape static continuity.

Ann sighed.

 

It was yet another day.

 

She woke up, slept. Brushed her teeth, shampooed her hair, washed her panty and hung it to dry, rinsed her hair, put in conditioner, washed her body and rinsed.

She toweled herself dry, put on lotion- but always with sunscreen on her face and neck first. She put on her makeup as an empty attempt at vanity since she knew it wouldn’t last half the day. Spent ten minutes deciding which clothes would make her look pretty, yet ended up choosing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. What was the point, she wondered, if the days didn’t make any difference? There was no excitement, no rush of emotion- only static continuity.

 

Each day she promised to lose a pound, eat healthier, smile more, feel more, commit. But she can’t. She knew she didn’t want it enough. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to pursue the changes she wanted to happen.

 

Life wasn’t generous enough, or forgiving enough, Ann felt, to allow her one single window of opportunity. Life didn’t spur her on to make the changes, wholly necessary, to make her live again. She was only, every time she awoke, on the slow procession to her tomb. There was no incentive for her to live and dance throughout the procession, nor to see the end as freedom. She dragged her feet instead.

 

She was too lazy to smile and laugh, to flirt and believe. To believe she was capable, beautiful, funny and endearing. She only knew how to keep safe, to not feel, to be shallow so that when ripples broke, it only broke a small portion of her person- but the whole of it as well, since she had so little of herself.

 

How narrow-minded. How frustrating. Why can’t she find the strength within her? She’s just being lazy.

 

But those don’t matter. What matters is how she feels.

 

Where will she find the strength, if not within her? Without?

 

The bright, warm sun. The hearty laughter. She want to be a part of it. she longs to be a part of it- a part of something alive and happy. When will they include her? When will they let her in? When will they see the beauty that she sometimes doubts she possesses?

 

Please let this be the day.

 

Please.