A Confetti Confession

I think... surprising, I know ... because if you have any insight about me, it would be definitely that I am far far from being a thinker... But nonetheless I do some rare times think... 

I think if confetti particles had a way to express themselves (confetti particles: you can thank me later for being your audible voice) they would let us know how much of a mess they are. They are, supposedly, the rest of the fancy paper we use for greater decoration. They are the trash of our paper perforation. They are the edges, the cut-outs, the residues, the leftovers... And perhaps they are truly just for garbage, outright truth. Yet, my tiny confetti friends do no give up. The gather themselves from the deep bag of uselessness and march toward the packet of celebration (yay). One confettus (I imagine that would be the singular for confetti... ref. cacti and cactus... Unless! it has Italian origins than it would be confetto... thoughts?) does not accept the mess of a confettus he is. He rises... even if a broom is needed... and one smack on the bottom cannot always be a bad thing... !  He joins! He joins the multitude of other confetti particles and shouts a song of joy at the victory, the victory of rising from the utter uselessness to one of great use...  To be tossed around...To being a celebration's most lovely guest! CONFETTI!!!( yes! They do make me happy in a silly way!)

Maybe my life after all is just one big bag of little confetti... A mess after the other... yet they rise... and they are gathered...sometimes pushed, sometimes smacked... but they do rise and they will join their voices to make some sort of sense... They will, in their utmost uselessness be of a great use... just maybe... I hope! To be a guest in the  great celebration before His throne... When my life will unfold all its particles in one deep shout of joy, one final toss into His arms!