Blogs

Blogs.
They are a dangerous thing really. You feel so safe just blathering away and you forget you’re actually talking to the whole world. I wish I could code my blog so that the exact people I wanted to, could read the exact sections I wanted them to read and skip all the stuff I didn’t want them to know. I have all these thoughts floating around in my head but I don’t want the world to hear. I’m probably even crazier than they thought. I want advice from people who will tell me the right thing for me to do and not just what I should do. I know I’m not making much sense here. I just know I’m feeling a little lost and I wish I knew what I wanted. I feel like cutting myself down the middle.
I’ve been home (in southern Oregon) for 3 months now. It’s beautiful, breathtakingly so. But I can’t shake the feeling, creeping under my skin like bugs, that I’m trapped here. I feel like a fox caught in a trap. No, not quite. More like a wild horse and someone has slowly been building a fence around my field and suddenly I’ve realized I can’t get out. The pieces went up so slowly I completely missed them walling up my last escape route.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me that I can’t just sit still and enjoy the safety of my fenced yard. From the outside it looks so inviting. No wolves could ever penetrate these boarders. The people I love are all here. They like to brush my tail and feed my carrots. (Maybe I’ve gone too far with this analogy). I’m just scared that one day that gate will open and I won’t be able to take it anymore. I’ll rip my reins right out of their hand and bolt. I won’t care who I’ve trampled until it’s too late.