The Inclination to Get Caught Up, and a Tendency to Fall

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I must have snapped about a hundred photos of my geckos last night.  It was feeding time.  Well, they demanded to be fed, more like…

I have a cage with a sliding door.  A shallow and decent cage.  The only issue is the infra-red light tampers with picture taking.  As does the immediate pupil response to flash.  Leopard geckos look most impeccable when the pupils are wide as the moon.  But a quick flash and their puppy dog eyes become saurian very fast.  I forget they are reptiles, to be honest.  I feel so much that they are speaking to me with a flick of the tail, lifted but full and wagging and…happy?  They seem what a person would call happy.  Besides the obvious presence of a smirking mouth shape.  I cannot bear it.  I cannot stand there and not snap a billion pictures and show every person I know.  That’s how my passion in life goes.  If I love something, you must love it, too.  I am convinced.  I am convinced I am the best advocate of my loves.  And I must display my steadfast dedication at the ready.  Without prompting.  It’s not hard, rather effortless.  It is my specialty.  I specialize in getting caught up, with damn near everything.

 

When you are molded into a life of observation, those observations become you.  I think that is the truth.  What I have seen has taught me much.  It has gripped my attention in the darkest of hours.  It has consumed my previously unremarkable life.  At birth, we can only be assumed unremarkable. We are amazingly alive.  But we have shoes to fill.  We have a thirst for the world.   We have a journey to embark.  It’s never-ending.  It is ever-present.  It is what makes us connect with so much.  And because we are so deliberate in our exploitations, it also causes an inherent degree of destruction.

 

I fall to destruction.  I fall to the degradation of the mind when the mind is so full and so swollen with experiences.  I want more.  I greedily want more.  I snap more pictures.  I will blog of this.  I will make something of this.  It matters.  I matter.  It’s all happening so fast.  And I’m escalating skyward.  This is a finite experience.  Last night I fell a bit to earth.  The swings are so drastically different.  Geckos and beautiful fish out of my mind, I tried to give myself to someone.  My time I offered, what was left of it.  But mid-swing, the tank hit empty.  I had, suddenly, nothing left.  Nothing to give.  I gave it all to my first love.  It gave it all to what I have become caught up with.  What have I for you at this hour?  An empty body, fading in and out.  Like the transitioning reach of radio waves going from one place to another, I’m here and then I’m not.  It’s remarkable.  It’s unreal.   Where did I fade?  To five hours ago?

It could be only five hours ago I was directing much energy to demonstrating a feeling I had for these reptiles.  I gave that the first ration of my attention, that night.

Actually, I worked for nearly 8 hours.  Worked effortlessly and drifted from sales floor to doctoring sick fish and back.  I gave that the very first of what I had for the day.  How cruel that I couldn’t give you more.  How cruel that even as I lay weeping inside, I want to go back to them.  It matters not who you are.  It matters that they are me.  They are a part of me, for I have observed them so long and become built of their moments in my life. I am only half-human.  The other half is the wonder that transcends survival.

 

I feel as though I cannot belong to anything else.  I am caught up and I fall lifeless for I give it all, some days.  If I had my way, every day.  I’m split.  I work to become whole when the two parts of me reconcile their differences.  The part that lives for human comforts and the part that lives to serve those comforts as they live and breathe.

 

Still.  I look forward to getting caught up again.  I want to find the current and let it push me to higher places.  Further places.  I want to be there.

I want to also be there for them.

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