chainsaw_headerOnce upon a time, there was a creature, and…and that seems rather vague and nondescript. As defined by Merriam-Webster a “creature” can be any type of animal. If this were a children’s book, (as opposed to a newspaper column) one could easily imagine a talking bunny rabbit, well dressed cat or perhaps even a break-dancing teddy bear… no…no bears. Not here anyway. For then it has the potential to become a bloody graphic horror story with a fun moral, as opposed to a deep psychological discussion, loosely based on the fragile human psyche, with no morals. Then, too, being “any type of animal” opens it up to being a fish; which doesn’t really work well into the material.

Of course if one were to reference the third dictionary entry for “creature” one finds- a fictional or imaginary being, typically a frightening one. This would be high misdirection, for we are not spinning a fairy tale, nor are we recounting the love story of a wendigo and the Loch Ness monster. This, too, would have the potential to become a bloody graphic horror story… ending with a fun moral, of course.

Since this is neither a children’s book nor fantasy fiction novella let us move along, with the knowledge we are using Webster’s second entry for “creature” as reference – a person; usually of a specified type. Wow, this writer certainly goes to great lengths to make sure everyone is on the same page. Or maybe just to confuse you. So…

Once upon a time, there was a creature and he was one of habit. Now this is not to say that said “creature of habit” couldn’t be female. Never would we draw reference to and support inequality issues. Nor rebuke the rights deemed proper by society and deny a woman of being a creature. However, in this particular instance the creature in question is male. Not to say the role couldn’t be filled by one of the fairer sex. Just that it’s a matter of fact thing that it was…male, that is. Political correctness is killing me.

Now being a creature of habit (human male in this instance) a need for patterned conformity was needed to ensure happiness. Oh there could be variations from the pattern from time to time; as long as the core maintained stability. However, one day, things changed, the addition of another creature to his household. It was a simple thing really but for a true creature of habit when one thing changes, for the long term, all things must change. Thus he adapted. The daily schedule shifted, former friends became enemies and with some determination life moved on and he was happy.

Then, in a very short time frame, things altered again…and again…and again. The basic structure of life, as he knew it, began to change with such rapid rapidity that he became lost in the comings and goings of those around. There was neither time to settle into routine, nor time to adjust from one alternation to the next. He knew he should just “roll with the punches” but he was being metaphorically beat to death. “Please, stop the ride, I want to get off!” he cried. But the insane merry-go-round of life kept on spinning at a break-neck pace.

Yet there was always the work. It kept him grounded because rudimentary labor seldom changes its direction. Thus he anchored his soul to this in an attempt to persevere. That was when that particular merry-go-round took to spinning uncontrollably also. In less than a week’s time everything, all things, all around, were in a constant uncontrollable tailspin. With his anchor chains broken he was adrift and slowly drowning in a sea of constant change. Just as he would think he had found a reliable handhold to grasp, a wave of alternation rolled him back under.

A creature of habit such as he cannot swim in a sea of diversity. His sanity depends on finding something, anything with stable solidity. It’s like hanging precariously from a very short noose, dear gawd, I sound like Dr. Seuss.

Now the creature hangs on by a thread. Barely able to keep his mind adrift and from drifting to parts unknown. Will he persevere? Or will his madness become fodder for the 6 o’clock news? Only time will tell. For now the creature simply must suffer and wait.

This twisted metaphorical tale of indirect direction is for those who know the pains of such a creature. Perhaps you are one yourself and can relate. For those who are not,  please respect these creatures for they will respect you if it is their habit to do so and their only desire for things to be left alone.

I welcome almost all questions and comments via FOCUS, or email me at wanderingchainsaw@gmail.com or you can FRIEND me on Facebook under Saw’s Brood!

Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused. See ya!