Muse

As I drove home on the highway from the events of yesterday, I thought about many things. It is pride to desire acceptance and respect? Does one have to conform to the cards on the table of social penitence? Is an atmosphere of dissention and negligent acceptance something that needs to change? Am I a loner? How will things play out now?

I turned at the offramp and signaled to merge. It took several cars before I was allowed to foray in the midst of the pre-midnight, metallic quagmire. Perhaps I did not assert myself aggressively enough. Too passive, too quiet. Even when posed with an array of vehicles and space to share on the concrete artery, people vied for attention, with each vestibule containing its own story. Some perform, while others sleep.

Signaling at the next light, I wondered about the many facets of the play. Some characters were somber, quiet. Others displayed moments of sentiment. The stage is flayed with an assortment of props and tools to utilize, but they sit idle as the roles are already set in seemingly unchangeable directions.

I pull into my garage, ruminating over both the uplifting and the shortcomings. When self-centeredness is king (or queen?) the world is truly a stage. But chaos reigns in the midst of performances and negligence of the instructions of the Director.