When your life turns into a train wreck.

5 - Islands and Peninsulas

My grandmother doesn't like snakes. I let her read that chapter, then I excused myself from the kitchen. She screamed bloody murder.

If any of you share my fate with reptilian-phobic grandparents, then I'll share advice with you: Do NOT let your grandmother/grandfather read chapter four. Tell them it's all about windows, and how the author just wrote about breaking windows and being a 'rapscallion'. That'll make them not want to read it, because what self-righteous grandparent wants to read about feisty hooligans.

Islands. Not to be confused with ABC's Lost. Islands are secluded pieces of land, usually small or medium sized. They're those little marks on an atlas that you think someone drew. An island can also be a 'detached portion of tissue or a group of cells', from Google's perspective. I like the latter. Detached portion of tissue. Like someone just cut off your nose, and now your nose is an island.

I want you, all of you, to take that little piece of life you've been holding onto for some time now, and just look at it. If it's still a snake, that's okay, just look at it. Do you see that little mark on it? That little bump, or that little scratch it's got? That's you. That's you in your own life. I'm sure if you were to look close enough, you'd see yourself looking really close at a snake's hide. It would be like when the girl in the bright orange jumpsuit that's tied around her waist throws two portals and jumps in one, and goes out the other infinitesimally.

What I'm trying to get at here, is that even though it's your life that you're leading, you're still so minimal. You're like the radius up the pin needle that sewed the entire dress of the universe, that's how insignifigant you are. Not just you either, but everyone. That person you love, or your mother, they're just as small as you are.You may be three feet tall, or fifteen feet tall (I'm exaggerating of course, no one's fifteen feet tall) but you and that person next to you are the same size.

As usual, though, I'm sure someone out there is more than willing to crush my philosophical thinking. That's ok, it's a 'free country' after all, isn't it? People can say whatever they damn well please, with no consequences.

I think that a peninsula has the potential to become an entire island, all by itself. If you're an island, socially, you can also become a peninsula, but where's the fun in that? Wanting to be an island is the first step in becoming an island. Being a peninsula means you're attached to someone or something else, and that means your dependent. You're changeable by what you're depending on, and that's sometimes harmful to you. Like, when you're dependent upon someone who hits you when you turn to them. That's a negative peninsula. But if you're dependent upon your loving mother, or a dog, like I am, that's a positive peninsula.

I find dogs to be very helpful, influential in the best ways. They're happy and they love to see you, and they'll gladly give you a hug or a kiss if you're feeling down. I think in either my past life or a future life, I was or will be a dog. I have a dog, well a couple, but I have one significant dog whose name is Oliver. He's the most beautiful English Springer you could ever see, and he's got the sweetest heart you'll ever encounter. He knows my name, even though I only see him two months at a time, and he'll never leave your side, unless your throw a ball of course. 

I know the most popular breed of dog is the Golden Retriever, but they're pretty dumb, and they're slobbery. I know my friend has a Chihuahua named Lucky, and my uncle's got a white lab named Lucky, coincidentally, and my step brother has an old fart of a beagle named Maggie. Tell me about your dog, is it smart? Dumb? Will it bring the ball back if you throw it into the deep end of the lake? Or will it swim in the shallows, barking and whining like it can't get close enough without its paws leaving the muddy bottom?