Thanks to Tumblr I have learned a thousand and one insightful things about life. The addition of Pinterest has only made it even easier for me to gain access to witty and profound statements, save them to be pondered. Re-reading them in an attempt to appease my heart of whatever stress I am under at the moment. One that has managed to pop up on my TL recently has been “don’t sweat the small stuff” or at least some paraphrased version of it. Well, I am sweating.
Interestingly enough, I read a little quote (on Pinterest, I am now addicted. Sue me) about the size of a man being proportional to the size of things that bothered him. I am troubled by the possibility of my dreams never reaching actualization. I am concerned about the beyond. I ponder if heaven is anything as I have read in Randy Alcorn novels, and more importantly, I wonder what route will take me to the sky. I wonder how I will die. Cue the gasps and fingers snapping to rebuke it.
It’s sad but the thought has come into my peripheral recently, and I have been unable to shake it. In a perfect world, my death would not be coming into question till my body refuses to carry me but what do you do when this world takes souls out of healthy bodies? People my age and younger are dying. It is easy to dissociate from the stories you hear in the grapevines, but it ‘s hard to do so when you knew the soul. The idea that this person will never make you scream their name in exasperation. You will never hear their voice on the other end of the phone call. It tires you out. You see your youth fleeting. I was not prepared for the evil of Earth.
In light of Manchester, my fear has once again risen to the surface about to spew from my mouth. My head is full of what ifs. What if I don’t make it to twenty? What if I die in a terrorist attack, get captured by terrorists or end up the victim of a hate crime? My heart does a little quiver when I leave the house; I double check all locks when I’m in the house. It sounds like deranged behavior and to be honest, it, is. But when you have hopes and dreams bigger than yourself, you guard them. With your life. And you sit and stew.
I am angry that I am scared. My fury mixes with heartbreak as my innocence high tails back to Disneyland. I am upset that the situations beyond my control outweigh the decisions I can make.
So, for now, I will sweat the small stuff, I will worry if my hair is too frizzy and if my shirt is ironed. I will obsess over my highlight reaching “glazed donut’ standards. I will sweat the small stuff because my heart cannot take the big ones.
Till the next rant, it is 3:20 am. I have to be up at 6:45 am.