I'am not a man in a cage, my life is like a spiral staircase. The first steps begin at an early age; still naïve and childish, I looked out to a prosperous world full of options. The sky was full of dreams of being a professional athlete, growing old in a huge mansion, and marrying the world’s most beautiful wholesome woman floated pleasantly in the air. Mature steps take me stories from the first step. My outlook on the world changes like the smooth curves of a spiral staircase. I change opinions, dreams, and everything in between. I condemn past outlooks, where I stand you can see for miles; you see past the fenced in backyard my parents let you run wild in. As I venture far up the steps and around the bends, I look out at a much different world. Unlike the cloudy view of the bottom, things were much more clear. The harsh truth of life blows past me like tumbleweeds in the desert; the odor of lies, deception, and greed radiate the air now that reality is here. The practice pit full of foam your parents created is sealed shut, no fall will go without a scratch from here on out. As I climb the steps they become smaller, rigid, and less stable. Far ahead the stairs spiral into a mysterious cloud.
November 30, 2009