butterfly

lately all i talk about is how people change.  i feel myself changing.  i am under construction, and i have no control.  someone i don’t know stares out of my eyes and uses my mouth to empty their thoughts.  i don’t mind this person sometimes, but i still wish for my old soul, the one lacking the ‘maturity’ and ‘wisdom’ that come with age.   as i fell asleep on monday night, i swore to myself that i would not worry.  i made a mental picture of my mind’s autopilot button, and pushed it with the frayed nerves in my brain.  and it’s working.  i say what i mean, but i don’t speak unless i need to.  i sing more.  i talk back but i rebound with a bubble of laughter that i balance on my mother’s finger to remind her that i am not always the dissatisfied person i seem.  i bite back, and i lick my wounds in public.  i cry more.  but i am becoming immune to worry.  i am a kind of focused self-control, making sure i am the master of all food that enters my body.  i count calories with an attitude not unlike apathy.  but i care.  i stand on the scale and watch as i melt away, and i smile.  thank god.  i am more spiritual.  my mind is open to God now in a way it hasn’t been in years.  i remember being a scared little kid but looking forward to the long, dark nights because i prayed until i fell asleep.  that is how i feel now.  i want to let the messages flow through me and into me and be open to whoever is trying to tell me something.  i am not necessarily christian, but God is there.  i am shedding and shedding and shedding layer after layer of distance and skin and self.  but theres something new under here.  and it’s more mystifyingly complex, it is a butterfly, it is a beatiful mess.  but that’s alright with me.