All these thoughts unraveling inside. I don’t know how to make sense of them all. To find peace within a meaning or a person.
It goes to show, where you can go if you let your mind run away. No, epiphanies tonight. I’ll just sort through everything that is making my head spin.
I’ll tell you when I’ve unwrapped these tiny pendant chains that always knot.These strings here, there all crossed.
The tiniest strands of gold, are the ones that are most difficult to unravel. They are wound about each other in the most intricate of ways.
I don’t know much of anything I believe. When I can’t sort out my life. Plan things the way I need them to be planned. I do my best but it’s not enough.
And I get myself into situations. I know I’m headed for a train on the tracks. But I couldn’t stop myself from walking on the train tracks. It’s the feel of the wind beneath you in ignorance, before you smash.
And collisions are solid, damaging, and hurtful. I want to make the right decisions, but I’m drawn towards the wrong ones. I want to let everything be, but I’m at loss for certainty.
How can you make the right choices, when you want songs of experience; instead of songs of innocence. There is something wonderful about the light, refreshing and tranquil.
But the blackness hides in a corner waving gold chains that entice you with their gilding and glimmering. The wrong thoughts call to you and set themselves in your mind. They make their desires known.
I’m only the age I am and the experience I have. I look to others, but still I do not know. They say experience is the worst teacher. But where have I to go?
So, that train keeps on coming and I am blinded by the lights and the moment before misery when I think I’ll be okay. But everyone knows train wrecks kill, and flying is for fools who didn’t think to wait at the train crossing.
Crash, bang! If you don’t make up your mind you’ll get hit from the otherside. Between a rock and a hard place. But for peace, I just want to sleep tonight.
The train is a metaphor for life. You can’t sit on the sidelines. Choices are here to be made. But you have to choose carefully.You can’t step out infront of an oncoming train.
You have to wait for the moment the train pulls up to the station. Buy your ticket and hope that your travels lead you to make choices with grace, and never let your feet step off the ground. Flying is for the dead. The intelligent stay grounded.
Many people don’t like weddings, they think they are tedious and a waste of time and money. But not me. I love weddings. The events leading up to weddings are exciting and I adore seeing how happy all of my friends have been as they walked down the aisle in beautiful,lacy,beaded, silky, and tailored wedding gowns.
The second event for Korinda’s wedding and by far the funnest (we thought) was the stagette at Northland’s Race Track. I arrived about 3:00 pm in my new navy and white striped and fitted dress and patent navy pumps to see the girls who had arrived before me betting on the horse races at the race track. More girls arrived and everyone was wearing a fascinator and lovely dress to go with the racetrack theme of the stagette.
There was a wonderful dinner of delicious food and toonie drinks at the bar. We were all tipsy and having fun playing games and as 6:00 pm chimed, we all got onto a school bus stopped at a liquor store and drank as we drove to the Legislature grounds for stagette pictures. There were many wonderful water features as we took pictures, often our feet were bare in the water as we held up our dresses so they wouldn’t get wet. We giggled and all climbed into a giant pool where we took a group picture of all of us holding up our dresses half way up our thighs and smiling. It was a picture that captured a wonderfully fun and lovely moment for all of us invited and for Korinda.
I think it was because we were having such a good time that we didn’t notice the men in suits and sunglasses as we were all tipsy and giggling like fools. We started to notice them when they closed in around us and it seemed a bit weird to us that there were so many of them. They looked corporate and Korinda was extremely upset that they were imposing on her wedding event. Her mother Annette and some of the other Moms who had come along went to talk to some the suits to see what their enclosure around us meant.
” The young women and yourselves aren’t allowed in the fountains,” said a dark-haired man in a pinstripe black suit. His tie was dark purple and his shirt a dark purple too. To anyone else, he and his colleagues would’ve looked like members of our wedding party, but they weren’t.
Annette got angry at the suit in the purple tie and shirt, ” Listen, you, this is my daughter’s wedding, and there is no law against going in those fountains and even if there were I’m sure no one would mind for stagette or wedding pictures. It’s a special time, people aren’t going to care.”
The suit shook his head and grabbed Annette’s arm and held it hard. ” Listen lady, this is corporate and government property now and your trespassing. Not to mention your daughter needs our permission to get married and to have wedding events, something she and her husband haven’t done.” Annette looked confused. The purple shirted suit spoke on, ” We are the law now, we are in control, and we say what you can and cannot do. We’re the government, and this is no longer a democracy. This is a corporate military state, and in a military state, people who are smart fall in line.”
We all heard what the man articulated to Korinda’s Mom and both Korinda, her Mom, and her bridesmaids were angry and ready to take the lying *ssholes in suites on. But a wisp of fear also passed through those of gathered at the stagette on the Legislature grounds. Where was the military this man talked about and who was the man in the purple shirt who addressed us?
As if to answer our questions, another man wearing a purple shirt and tie asked one of the bridesmaids named April, where we were going next, ” to a club, downtown,” April mentioned scathingly. The man nodded and took a fuming April by the wrist. He pulled out a handgun, as did the rest of the corporate men in suits, and lead each of us onto the bus. They took away all our liquor, dumped it all in the grass, and sat on the bus with us as us girls silently looked at each other and bit our lips in fear. The men accompanied us to the club Korinda had chosen. They stepped outside the bus and watched as we all entered the club. We could not quite comprehend these men as they put their guns away and told us have a safe time.
The first man in the purple shirt, wrote Korinda a ticket for taking her stagette pictures on Legislature fountains. No one was allowed on government property without permission or proper identification, apparently. The ticket was a warning and he advised Korinda to apply to one of the newly appointed judges for her marriage license as her wedding was coming up in a month and bit. He told her a bit of cash would get the license through on time on top of the regular fee.Her old license was null and void.
The men holstered their guns and got into black Sedans that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere in front of the club. We all watched in awe as the men in suits drove away and we were left standing in front of the club not sure what had happened. Apparently, overnight their had been coup and Alberta was now an independent state-run by a corporate militia. How strange and terrifying was that realization and poor Korinda, her stagette had started off so well.