Dust. 

Not to be morbid, or overly depressing but sometimes I wish I were dust. Small, minescule, inconsiqiential to those who aren’t deathly allergic. 

I think it might be easy to be dust. Your only job is to fall slowly and rest upon peoples’ memories, homes, shelves and depending on how clean they are, swept away. If I were dust in my own home, I would be resting on the tops of my kitchen cabinets for over a year now. 

Being dust would be so totally uncomplicated. A lot of the time I think my life isn’t all that complicated, and while I could say that in this moment it is complicated for the sake of this post… but if I’m being honest, it’s not. 

I have a job. I have friends. I have plans nearly every weekend. I have a husband. I have two dogs. I have a lot in my life and I feel as though it’s pretty full. But sometimes, like right now, I would love to just pack up my husband and dogs and leave. I would start over some place. Somewhere new, and different, with new people who don’t know me. Somewhere far from the mistakes I’ve made here already. 

Which brings me back to dust. Dust has no problems other than the problem of being swept up. Dust doesn’t have to worry about what the other dust is saying about it. Dust doesn’t have to worry about the other dust’s feelings. 

Damnit the other dust can be so annoying when it has feelings, and can speak, and when it just doesn’t get along with its fellows. Oh, wait, dust isn’t capable of any of that petty human crap. 

Which is why I would like to be dust. 

This is not to say that I’m suicidal or something. I’m not. I’m just so exhausted of people. People who are wishy washy, backstabby, and so overly peppy that I vomit a bit every time I see a fake self-love stream of words connected to their profile picture. I’m so exhausted of people in traffic who drive around and force me to slam on my breaks, making my purse and lunch box go flying full force into my dash from the passenger seat. Are they lost? Or does the rain that washes the grime from the streets also wash away the IQ points of drivers? 

I know, I’m being very maudlin. But I wish I could be like dust, and take an enormous vacation from all of the annoyances and complications. 

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