Peaces Fly

Sometimes things happen that are out of your control. It's so easy to have everything lie like a fragile balancing act in your hand. Then suddenly, you trip on the path of life. Whoosh. It flies into pieces. Your homework in one direction. Sports in another. Familial life tumbles to the ground. Your heart shatters in pieces. Emotions run awry as you try to pick everything up. But that doesn't really work. You see, whenever you grab one piece, you lose grasp of the last one that you took hold of.

Nothing seems to work. Nothing is in control. They're worse than the Cornish Pixies in Harry Potter. You can't seem to catch anything. They evade you with evil delight. And soon, they're farther apart then ever.

Everything's going in the wrong direction, spreading out to the point where you can never get your life back in control. The peaces of your life fly apart. If you're a grammar Nazi, a spelling Nazi, or a real Nazi (i hope this isn't the case :P) you probably noticed that i said peaces. Not pieces. Peaces.

But there's a reason for that. The perfect life is peace. Now when a pot is broken, there is pottery across the floor. Such is the same with peace. When it is shattered, peace becomes peaces.

Now most of us are striving towards summer, and if you're life is anything like mine, peaces are flying everywhere. It's not just one thing. It's everything.

I'm listening to a Torrey lecture right now. I have twp essays and seven to nine math lessons/tests due on Friday. I just finished my Torrey term paper after slaving away in a six square foot corner of our car for three days. I'm tired. And homework may make my grave before seventy-two hours are up.

I'm completely out of shape from studying. I haven't had time to practice basketball, shoot some hoops, or touch my foil in ages. I almost dread going back to sports. What if I can't play them anymore? It will be painful to go back to the rigorous schedule being completely out of shape.

People have unknowingly hurt me. It wasn't meant to be at my expense. But it hurt me still. And sometimes, when one needs people, they aren't always there.

Next year still seems up in the air. Plans are not set in stone for the things that I highly care about. I don't know what's going on. And I may not find out till next year. I hate being in the dark. It bothers me and stresses me out.

Imagine a pot dropping from the sky. It spins, sunlight glinting off its golden brown hues. It turns once. Twice. Falling evermore. But it has to hit the ground sometimes. And when the pot meets the floor, pots turn to pottery. Peace turns to peaces. Both fly in the air. Too far and too broken, to shattered for anyone to make whole once more.

Perhaps we think that the summer is coming. A time for us to recuperate, to turn our peaces back to peace. For teenagers, for kids, summer appears to be our time. Our time to rule.

However, I can tell you for a fact, peaces won't turn to peace just becomes its the summer. Peaces cannot ever turn to peace. You can piece your heart, your sanity, your life back together. But that won't work. It never, ever will.

Peaces can never turn to peace.

Not on your watch.

One cannot fix anything, let alone everything. The peaces shall float away, farther and farther with every attempt to turn peaces to peace.

There's only one person who can turn peaces back to peace. And its not you.

It's easy to realize it's not you who can stop the peaces from flying. But the question is will you let him piece your peace back together? Will you hand him your heart to make it whole? Will you give him your brain, to stop the ache? Will you trust him with your sanity to make you sane?

Peaces can never turn to peace.

Not on your watch.