Enter the Ragdoll

What I’d like most right now feels much beyond my level of astral connection...astral projection maybe, but even that requires a more developed third eye considering the smog alert for downtown toronto. Forget about digi-cams and bug reports, the smell of fresh metallic silver trim sans the open windows, fast bodies that stutter and group around the office all day like that part in the movie they speed up to prove a point. Enter a new scene. As much as I’d like, I won’t wish this away. I appreciate and will stand by the concept of being comfortable in my skin, even though it feels gnawed on by circumstances beyond my control. I know today that I am thankful for what I have, and proud of where I am despite the emotional oposite. I don’t 'wish' to be the ragdoll, or run away with the circus. I am the ragdoll, and the circus is everywhere. Maybe the homeless woman got it right and it IS all about silver pants and stuffed animal slippers...and turbans...and oh so many other things.