The Rules

The ones that tell us how we are supposed to be. That attempt to choke the passion out of us. The kind that make us uncomfortable at the most unreasonable moments. The ones that try to keep us from enjoying our time. There is nothing worse than letting loose only to have someone tell you to reel it in.
I feel trapped in a place that seems to want so much to box me in, to decide for me who and what I am. I have people who hardly know me deciding what kind of person I am. They aren't interested in learning from me- but make a conscious effort to learn from someone else. As if anyone else could teach them more about me than me! To sit in condescending judgement of someone you know nothing about and not because I have chosen to hide if but because I have yet to have a chance to share it.
I do not have time for it.
Where are the people who are moved? Where are the people who long to be inspired. Who believe in something outside of themselves but are not naive and foolish. Why are there so many dispassionate people. So many who are so willing to pass the blame and responsibility onto someone else because it's just too damn hard to stand and face things.
But then there are those who seem to do more than stand and face things. They seem to go hunting for something to try to stir up. They spend their entire lives trying to "enrich" their lives only to have never lived it. In the end they are merely chasing windmills and you can romanticize it all you like, it is still foolish.
There are no roses in winter. So there are none to stop and smell. If there were, it's too damn cold to stop moving. Winter can be oh so miserable.