stuck

If you're stuck in the past, you go forward in reverse

Getting stuck can be the best thing that could happen to us, because it forces us to stop. It halts the momentum of our lives. We have no choice but to notice what is around us, and we end up searching for Jesus.

I'd been feeling like this for a while, the continual looking back, the stuckness of it all. I blamed it on the coming New Year, only four and a half months away, when the clocks would read zero and we would start again, could start again, but I knew we wouldn't. Nothing would. The world would be the same, just a little bit worse.

Ella!_ the voice yells, but I cannot tell where it is coming from. The sound wraps around me, spreading like spilt water and then evaporating into silence.__here am I?_ I whisper again.The darkness stretches out for eternity.I take a few steps forward, but the feeling is surreal__ cannot tell if I__e actually moved or not, because everything is nothing. I feel something wet and warm slide down my cheek, and I touch the tear with my fingertips, swiping it away.Representative Belles is dead. I__ certain of that now. He__ gone. I___ I__ in the place where he was, and now he__ gone, and now I__ stuck. I__ stuck in the nothingness of a dead body, and I don__ know how to get out.My heart thuds against my chest, and I gasp for air. What if I can never get out? What if eternity is nothing more than me, alone, in the darkness? Trapped in someone else__ death.I collapse, but it__ not like I fall on the floor. There is no floor. There was the illusion of one, but as my body gives way, I realize that I__ floating. I stretch out, my fingers and toes aching to feel, but there__ nothing, nothing at all, and I draw myself into myself, hugging my legs, my knees tucked under my chin.I__ alone.Maybe when Representative Belles died, I died too.Maybe this is it.

Most of the things that stop us aren__ things that we can__ do, but things we refuse to learn.

I am touched by her life, how it moves forward, pulses and springs. There is no fragmentation, nothing stunted or wedged. I circle back, I regress, the past doesn't let go. It might as well be a malfunction, a scene repeating itself, a scratched vinl record, a stutter.

You can't put a leash on me. I'm unleashable!

You__e innocent until proven guilty,_ Mandy exclaimed, unable to hide her gleeful smile. She missed the way people used to have normal conversations, used to be more caring for each other than themselves, back in the Seventies and Eighties. These days, she realized, neighbors kept to themselves, their kids kept to themselves, nobody talked to each other anymore. They went to work, went shopping and shut themselves up at home in front of glowing computer screens and cellphones_ but maybe the nostalgic, better times in her life would stay buried, maybe the world would never be what it was. In the 21st century music was bad, movies were bad, society was failing and there were very few intelligent people left who missed the way things used to be_ maybe though, Mandy could change things. Thinking back to the old home movies in her basement, she recalled what Alecto had told her. __e wanted more than anything else in the world to be normal, but we failed._ The 1960__ and 1970__ were very strange times, but Mandy missed it all, she missed the days when Super-8 was the popular film type, when music had lyrics that made you think, when movies had powerful meanings instead of bad comedy and when people would just walk to a friend__ house for the afternoon instead of texting in bed all day. She missed soda fountains and department stores and non-biodegradable plastic grocery bags, she wished cellphones, bad pop music and LED lights didn__ exist_ she hated how everything had a diagnosis or pill now, how people who didn__ fit in with modern, lazy society were just prescribed medications without a second thought_ she hated how old, reliable cars were replaced with cheap hybrid vehicles_ she hated how everything could be done online, so that people could just ignore each other_ the world was becoming much more convenient, but at the same time, less human, and her teenage life was considered nostalgic history now.Hanging her head low, avoiding the slightly confused stare of the cab driver through the rear view mirror, she started crying uncontrollably, her tears soaking the collar of her coat as the sun blared through the windows in a warm light.

The center of my sins stuck behind a blocked door, circled by hollow deeds spread on my lifetime__ floor

Try to stop Rewinding and Fast Forward into something better.

It occurred to me that grief is like a tunnel. You enter it without a choice because you must get to the other side. The darkness of it plays tricks on you and sometimes you can even forget where you are or what your purpose is. I believe that people, now and again, get lost or stuck in that tunnel and never find their way out.

Assumption is one dreadful and incurable disease, which sticks to the soul and wiggles across the skin.

People who are stuck in the past, miss out on the beauty of the Present and the possibility of the future!!!

Freedom can choke you if you don't know how to handle it.

Fate was tricky like that. It consumed us when we thought we were free, and it freed us when we thought we were captured.

People often tell themselves lies, in order to reach what they consider acceptance in difficult situations. In reality, they fool themselves into believing they are healed, until that lie is corrected by time, further information or their own personal growth. True healing comes when we learn to not avoid truth, but face it. Only then will we be set free.

Sometimes we are that fly in the house, that thinks it sees an open window. So it crawls to, or flies head-on into clear glass. At times getting stuck between the storm and pane, it dies in the windowsill under a tormenting, hot sun.

Word-Power'Being stuck in my room,I've become a world traveler.If you wonder how...just guess how I've reached you right now