Pinball game

Pull, let go, fly! Bump. Score! Wait a second – who are you? Why would I bump into you in the first place? By the time I’m ready to answer any questions, my emotions propel me further up the tunnel called “dating” or “meeting new people” or whatever you want to call it, deeper into the pinball game – ping!  Hit another one – jackpot! By the time the fireworks ceased, I’m already flying forward. Each time a new bruise sets in and hurts when it is pushed again – the bruise of an online connection, the bruise of face gazing over a cup of tea, the bruise of holding hands while watching a movie – each of these gets pinched, as a desperate need, and they hurt because after that moment – nothing is left. I can’t find anything deeper, and off I go. Fly! There is this moment of hanging in the air, on top of the curve, no movement, a moment to think. And I think I like hanging like that – alone, in the air, with no ground under my feet. I am nobody’s, nobody is mine, but then the need to be connected sets in, and I fall down the curve. I get hit again, and fly up a bit, then I get hit harder – each time the amount of emotions is different – equally proportional to my hopes and dreams, but, unfortunately, not to the person that I bump into.

I project what I think is there and don’t notice what is actually in front of me. Later, while I fly, I analyze what just happened, and I see what was always there, only clouded by my own desires. By that time it’s too late, I move straight into a new collision course, and I know I will slam head forward, hard, I can’t turn back. Score! Pull, let go, fly! Repeat. There are moments when I think I got myself out of the game, lifted the clear cover and flew outside, dropped on the table, rolled onto the floor, and stopped. From here, I imagine I heard the racket of electricity charging, the sparks flying – but from a safe distance. Crack! Back to reality – I only hit the ceiling, but never made it out. The game continues. The lights flash around, maddening me with desire to try them all, to taste this, taste that, and keep bumping, no matter how painful it is afterwards – for the little glorious sparks, and sometimes fireworks.

Maybe this is a wrong game, not a pinball, but a collector of sorts? I feel like I collect memories, and learn from them, but each time I look for more. Or, it’s more like a matching game – I am flipping the cards – this one? No. Matches to this wish? Nope, wrong again. I can’t stop, I want to keep playing, it’s addictive and it rules my consciousness. I breathe in, and dive deeper. I’ve lost count to how many times I dove, how many points I scored, I only want to keep going. I’m a bowling ball – I throw myself forward, I roll, I bet in my head on how many pegs I can hit at once.  Will I miss this time? Will I get all of them? And what lies behind the pretty façade, when I have to drop into empty darkness and roll back out, to be thrown forward again with my own hands? The truth about myself. The stuff I’m made of – something I have not been able to see, something that was pushed deep down by being busy with life. Time to stop and look inside. What exactly is it that I want? I thought I know exactly what I want – but it seems it will take me forever to find it. So is this the matter of time, or is this the matter of my own impatience? The toddler type gratification – I want it, and I want it now! I can’t wait! I will throw a fit if I have to wait! One lesson I am learning – all of this fades with time, and only true stuff remains. I need to learn to be patient, to not propel myself up, to not run, to walk slowly and savor – to know I will have all the time in the world. I guess I am hungry, everything is new and tasty and I can’t stand to not touch it, even if it will shock me with high voltage. It’s so tempting to push every single button, to go on all levels, to unlock hidden treasures and collect points. Isn’t life an addicting game? I wonder if by the end of it we get to master it – just when only our minds care, if not senile yet, but the bodies stopped caring a long time ago.

Photo by Amy Clarke.

Comments

[Mark]

Hey You!

Reminds me of a first-kiss feeling. Catch your breath; don't let it get away. You want more, but you can't trust it when you chase a dream. Don't risk anything more than you can afford to lose. Then crash those bumpers and give the machine a shake.

[Ksenia Oustiougova]

Thanks Mark - that's an awesome suggestion. Shaking it up!