A Story About A Door

Imagine a large fun house room with doors galore. They're everywhere, the place is enrobed in mystery, for I never know quite sure what is going on or what will happen next. Its an Alice in Wonderland sort of place (sadly, minus the drug induced entrance to Wonderland), theres small doors, big doors, old doors, new doors, doors with a cover and others that look like they've been condemned. An almost endless amount, and it all started with that fated first door that got me in there in the first place.

Before entering, I was in complacency. A room that goes nowhere, and does nothing. Its fine and dandy until you see that you've been left behind. Then, appears that first door. That fated first door. It seems so nice and a pleasant change from the room I previously occupied. It was a very straight forward door, and it looked like it led to another room of progress. It was different and I was going somewhere.

Of course, I get all gussied up and make my cheery self through this door only to find that nothing I saw was as expected. The place I had assumed I would be in was an illusion, I had mistakenly missed the gap. It wasn't one door I was to go through, it was two. In complacency, I had been standing directly in front of both rooms creating a foreshortening of the space between the two doors. In essence, whatever the zeal or tunnel vision I had made that room I envisioned seem closer. I had missed it. The second door, which is now shut and then cemented over and wallpapered and there now hangs a small picture of a sail boat. Long forgotten of the door that once was.

So I stand in a room. A purgatory with doors galore.

In this fun house room every so often a new door will open. With its glimpse of hope, a glimpse of change, a tease of progress. Although, the moment a new door is open its closed faster than it takes my nervous system to follow through on the message to lift a foot to walk towards this open avenue.

However, if I had to do it all over again I'd walk through with that same zeal. There is an end, there is an out, but still...

Fucking doors.