The goose is out.
So the story goes, on a hot ass summer day, curled up on my boyfriend's bed listening him tell me about another friend who was having life trouble and he mentions telling this person that they were essentially a goose in a bottle, and not seeing their way out of their situation.
"A what and a where now?" I asked. So he explains.
Imagine a gosling was raised inside a large glass bottle, growing too big to fit through the bottle's neck. How do you get the goose out without breaking the bottle or injuring the goose?
Yeah, it's a tricky one. I'm a littls ashamed to admit that my answer was "Soap? Lots of it?"
The bottle is an imaginary constraint. Once that concept sinks in, it's pretty easy to release the goose. The part that's a little more difficult is realizing that you're the goose, and most of the things constraining you and holding you back are the bottle. It may not look as simple as merely reimagining yourself without your bottle... hell, personally, some days it feels like I'm sitting in mine with a blowtorch and grim determination. (it would have to take grim detwermination for a goose to use a blowtorch.) But really, when you cut through all the b.s., self-delusion, and what have you... the bottle doesn't have to exist. And if it does exist, it doesn't have to take the form you think it it already has. Hell, if you really think about it, the goose doesn't have to exist either... but every story needs a protagonist, so lets leave the goose alone for now.
This is me, this is the bottle I'm constantly struggling to erase, this is my head, my heart, and what occasionally manifests in the world along the way.
Enjoy your stay. ;)
By the way, I'm still working on getting this site up to speed. If you're looking for stuff on my by now ancient history of an old web site, it's still up.