‘Comfort Zone’
Is this it?
Is this really where I'm supposed to sit?
I thought for a while.
For almost too long....
When does comfortable become...too comfortable?
I guess it's when you sit in the same place for so long...looking out the window...watching the leaves grow annd change, while you don't.
And eventually you lose the desire to use your legs anymore...kind of like a—
Chair!
I'll always remember you sitting there...
Dreaming of what we could become.
Collecting dust in the afternoon sun.
Staring at the door knob,
The glare from the window catches my eye.
Barely open, I'll never forgive myself if I don't try to slip through the crack...
I have to leave before it slams shut!
I see too much potential out there...
Not to get out and experience life on the other side.
Where the grass is greener than the carpet beneath you—
And the fall breeze beats the ceiling fan above you...which has been spinning in place for...so long chair.
But it's not going anywhere....
I guess I can relate.
My feet were falling asleep, making it harder and harder to stand.
Day after day with a blank stare and an empty hand taking a nap on your arm rest...
Quite the trap!
So perhaps...I'll keep it short.
It's been real.
Real stagnant.
At the end of the day your cushion becomes a comfort zone for complacency...
Making it so easy to settle, and sit down.
Easy to conform...and become lost and never found.
Just like all that change in my pocket that could've been...
That unfinished to do list, written in pen.
Too often they fall victim to your cushion.
But I can only sit
for...so long chair.
This world just has too much to offer...
Besides a 9-5 job...
A house with a pool, a two car garage, a wife...
The well and good life!
The American Facade.
You see, a straight line from A to B is too short for me.
I prefer the zig zag path to everywhere,
Where my only job is to connect the dots wherever I go.
Always ascending, I'll never plateau....on the other side.
Call me a crazy boy, but I'm not a lazy boy like you are.
Then again...
I could just grow old with you,
Always doing what I was told to do,
Sitting in my forties telling stories to these kids about chasing their dreams...pretending like I know what that means...while wishing that I ran faster after mine.
My feet would grow roots...coming home from work, planted in the same chair kicking off the same old boots.
You've tried to convince me that there's always tomorrow.
I guess I've been killing time...
My biggest fear is that you're the accomplice!
Supporting me, yet holding me back from everything I'm trying to accomplish...
And you have been for...so long chair.
I think I need some fresh air.
Even if that means leaving my house, quitting my job, getting off of my couch...
And out of my comfort zone.
I had to ask myself...
Am I living here or just spending the nights?
That's when I decided you just weren't my type...
Don't get me wrong, I think you're really nice...
But after awhile that smile will fade.
And the window will close and so will the shades.
No matter how safe and comfortable it may be...I can't grow in a dark room.
I need...cultivation.
Turns out, a living room is the furthest thing from...living.
So while the windows still open, I think I'll stand.
Reach out my hand for the doorknob.
But not before I take one look back and
say—
So long chair!
I would feel bad except, you’ve got legs but choose not to use them.
At least the ceiling fan attempts to move.
Anyway...I know where you'll be at the end of the day....
Average is always something to fall back on.
J.T. CONDE 