OUR OWN PRISONS...

I've fashioned myself as a "Black" Erma Bombeck...a humorist of sorts. That is what I intended this blog to be...I thought...because "It ain't that deep..." Oh well...the laughter will come...Trust me, I can't live without it--Need that daily dose--If only a chuckle out loud to myself. We have made ourselves our own self-imposed prisoners. Imprisoned by our own ideas of success. Images that mold our self-worth, limit our views of others and keeps us stymied (look that one up--I think it means what I think it means:>--Heck I have that hidden vocabulary that creeps up on me--from reading for ages now.--darn that reading)

Back to the prison thing--I do digress at times...

We imprison ourselves by throwing away our childhood dreams--Under the guise of "maturity" we chuck away our youthful dreams and replace them with the metal bars of a prison cell. Surely that treasured degree in Biotechnology and Applied Linguistics (made this one up) with a minor in Latin takes the place of wanting to be the "jacks" champion of the world. Who me? Knock a hard earned education laced with student loans? NOT ME -- "Miz Get Your Education" and "Knowledge is Power..."Naw, don't get a "Cyncere" sister wrong...loves me some knowledge --and likes to get me "some" often :)

I've wandered again...

Quite often...what we were going to "be" when we are all grown up was planted in our heads by God when we were children. Loved to "play in the dirt again?" -- dreamt of being outdoors with the trees, the plants and yuck the bugs and worms...ever heard of a horticulturist?...Shoot, truth be told many of our old uncles mowed plenty lawns and earned a "good" living doing so--We'd call them "Landscape Engineers" today -- Oh how we love titles :) Ah but old "Unc" didn't have a high falutin' degree strung around his neck..."Unc" just did that because he couldn't get a real job--right? Old uncle however, drove a "paid for" gangster lean Caddy--quite unlike our Escalades tethered with a 6 year note. Unc left the wifey with a "paid for" fully furnished (with cash) home when he left this earth. Quite unlike our 30 yr mortgaged and twice refinanced homes.

Our prisons are self-imposed--because we relinquished our dreams to what we considered both mature and acceptable. Screw maturity--well not all of it...but the part that keeps you imprisoned...fly that kite, buy an Etch-a-Sketch -- pull that Easy Bake Oven out and bake away-Heaven knows you want to cook all day instead of type-buy some Play Doh -and sculpt til your hearts content...who knows...the Picasso in you might finally emerge. Get some crayons---and draw that picture in your head. It's time for parole....are you ready to be released?

Ahhh the skillet (moi) calling the pot black...