You work with what you’re given, one piece at a time. Life does not deal you cards. Life drops pieces from puzzles into your hands. There are too many puzzles to count, and countless pieces to sort through. There is no reference picture to help you work it all out, nor is there a user’s manual. You only have an end licence agreement, letting you play until you run out of credit. Many of us fail to think outside of the box. Hence, we are confined into a particular framework.
The first piece drops, you take it, and arrange it as you see fit. Then comes the second. You take this one and you set it down near the first. Gaps form as proverbial building blocks cascade into your hands, while you fumble to make use of them. You can move them side to side and you can rotate them as you wish. You cannot discard any, so you find yourself setting some aside. This action of yours will have consequences in the future. You have blocked a pathway, piling pieces in front of the door. There are a variety of shapes, some are well-rounded and some have protruding edges. However, you are expected to make them all fit. With little to no time and a bombardment of puzzling elements, you are expected to paint a perfect picture.
Sometimes, through whatever force we may find, we are able to fill in all the gaps. We have no time to marvel, though. For the perfectness that we have created soon disappears. It just vanishes. People no longer remember the good that we have done. You can choose to drown in your sorrow and be flooded with life or you can try to live on. We are peddlers who are in love. We want to be perfect, but we cannot. We can only see the gaps between the lines that we could not fill. They accumulate and they taunt us, like stains on an old wedding dress. We are reminded of a time when life was much more simpler. When our building blocks were alphabetical and it was ok if we couldn’t get the shapes into the proper slots. Back when we couldn’t tell time and time didn’t tell us what to do.
Causes and viewpoints are forced upon us, rather than promoted. They are dropped into our hands like live grenades. Everything seems to be blown out of proportion. Perhaps, though, life is much simpler. Unlike a game of Tetris, perhaps we are able to suspend things and take our time to determine what to do with them. Be that as it may, I could care less. Just stay with me a while.