Monday, February 27, 2012

Sometimes I'm Alice.

At times, I feel very much so like Alice in Wonderland. Not the part with the Cheshire cat or the caterpillar, an I certainly don't have the Queen of Hearts chasing after me. "Off with her head!" Nope, I don't hear that. Rather, I feel like the moments where Alice is too big or too small for her surroundings. Either her knees are pressed up against the walls because she is a giant, looming over the tiny chairs, or she is hanging from the leg of a table, barely able to fit her arms around it. The strange sensation of not fitting where she should overcomes Alice, and she is rather relieved to return to her natural size.

Obviously, I am neither a giant nor a lilliputian, but I am like Alice inside of myself. The tiniest instances become giants in my brain, and the huge stresses are like crumbs on the table of my life. A simple misunderstanding becomes an unresolvable  issue. A huge test becomes a tiny homework check. It is as if I pick up the bottle labeled "Drink me" every morning, and guzzle the whole bottle without a second thought. I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but I often feel as if my proportions are so off from the rest of the world that I will never be understood. I feel like I'll constantly be wandering around like a tiny person in a mansion or trampling things like a giant in a dollhouse. I just want to put down the bottle, crumble the "Eat me" cracker, and walk away. But I just cannot. The proportions of my emotions and feelings will just be off balance for now. Every text message without a reply, a battle against tears. Every tweet of a bird, a cause for confetti. Every test, a blip on my radar. Every huge moment, another day. Sure, it's a strange world to live in...but it's mine. And perhaps one day, the tiny chairs won't feel so small; the giant tables won't loom so largely. Maybe one day, I'll be able to see as everyone else. But until then, I'll be here, elbows pressed against the windows, head squished against the ceiling or tiny feet scampering over the boulders of gravel, nimble fingers petting ants on the head. I'll just be here, waiting for the world, my world, to make sense.

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