Ever felt as though you were trapped in a snow globe? A pretty little world , with all the colours you can dream up… Where there is joy, peace and contentment… Whee you are you, no pretenses, no reason to prove yourself, no fear of falling short , of not being good enough.Someplace safe, where its just possible to be…To be free. A veritable utopia of books, art, sunshine and rainbows
But freedom always comes with a price.No matter how much you hide, no matter how sheltered you feel, no matter how carefully you build your haven, there is always a price. A price for freedom, a price for dreams and a price for happiness.
Because you see my snow globe is in someone else’s hands. If this were a fairy tale, I would call her a witch with a crooked nose, warts shrouded in a black cloak, cackling as she plotted new and devious ways of torture. But this is neither a fairy tale, nor is my puppeteer malevolent.There are no princes on white horses, noble knights to save the trapped princess, no one to champion my cause, no one to battle my dragons nor to come to my aid or offer solace.
Reality is never as simple. My jailor is not evil. It would have been far easier if she were. She has no malice towards me nor does she revel in my miseries. She is not sadistic. In fact she is nothing. She’s a shadow, that rustle of movement you see out of the corner of your eye, the last thing you remember as you awaken from a distressing dream. She simply is.
Sometimes she shakes the little snow globe. Its so pretty you see. Snowflakes dancing in the air.And then she shakes a little harder. The snow comes down faster, harder, sucking away at the warmth till all you can feel is the cold, and it chills you to the bone.There is no escape from it, nowhere to huddle for warmth or safety. The ground beneath your feet moves, little tremors at first and then the earth shakes so badly that you search in desperation for something to hold on to. Some constant, in a world that is rapidly becoming unfamiliar and scary.
Slowly everything dies around you , while you look on, helpless. The colours leach away, leaving nothing but a dull gray all around.You watch as your world you had so painstakingly built crumbles around you, unable to stop the inevitable sequence of events sure to follow, powerless, unable to even look away until you accept defeat, resigned to your fate and simply close your eyes, waiting for it to end.
You collapse just as your world did. Your spirit broken.You would expect to feel pain, anguish but even that is denied to you. All you feel, all you are capable of feeling is the numbness. It courses through you veins, much as the cold did.Your very life, your essence, your will to live trickling away to nothingness. You sit in the midst of the ruins, wondering where to start, or how, or even if its possible to rebuild everything you have lost. And if it would be worth it if you did.
And, the worst part, the truly horrifying part, is that even when you think its over, that the worst has passed and you have tided over, picked yourself up, is the fact that, you don’t know when or how, but you know in the deepest darkest corner of your heart that it will happen again. The happiness, the pain, the destruction and the helplessness at the hands of an entity older than time,far too powerful to defeat. That there is no escape from the snow globe.
Musings of a broken soul 