Apple Allegory

I don’t know anymore, I think I’ve lost myself. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what to understand anymore. What should I do? I look for a sign or guidance but…who should I trust? Who should I believe? I scream internally my frustrations but of course that doesn’t hurt.

Even if I pass this obstacle, I quickly face another. I’m afraid to love or really I fear attachment of any kind. It could be as simple as a TV show or grow into something big like a person. I realize this is currently one of my main issues.

I don’t want to grow attached to something or someone that I shouldn’t care for. It’s none of my business or concern. So I close my heart off to love or affection…it’s a struggle. Despite my stubbornness to resist, I still feel pulled by curiosity and interest.  What is this drug? Here’s a good allegory.

I drown, I thrash, I struggle, but eventually I feel the warmth spread over me like a blanket as I float to the bottom. I’m weighed down by my own stresses, faults, and problems. However, I’m saved by an unidentifiable source. Once on land, I grow hungry to find the source–my rescuer. Instead, I stumble across nine ripe apples.

Apples, sparkling in the sunlight, look alluring and appetizing. Hesitantly, I take the first one and steal a bite. It’s uncharacteristically sweet, but I nearly finish it and precede to sneak a few curious bites of the others. Suddenly, I drop the first apple. It’s rotting, they are all rotting, but I still take bites only to consume pain and heartache. Still, I eat because the apples are fine and ripe as they were when I first set eyes on them. It’s my perception that is severely skewed.