Will it still remain yours after being seen and used in a 1000 different ways by a 1000 different people?
Get down from that high horse you sit on. It is a mere illusion which gives you so much power. Now I have seen that illusion and I have seen through it, so be ready to share it with me.
So easy for you, so very easy: you have crossed the damn river twice over and now standing on the other side, so acutely aware of your accomplishments and your travails, you mock those who are struggling to cross. You even go so far as to say that they will never cross with such weak and despicable thoughts and actions.
You know what’s worse?? You are bloody, God-be-damned right...
I am not going to be crossing anything anytime soon – not like this, not with what I have and what I am. But hearing that repeatedly, seeing that in you and in me, in the mirror, in the swirling dregs in my tea, in the clouds, in the stinking red of the buildings and the choking grey of the concrete beneath my feet – it doesn’t help, not even in the least bit.
A plague upon every smirking, smug, self-satisfied face...You can take your victory to the grave, and I will take mine (victory, or lack of it) with me...But I live too, as plainly as you do and that alone is the pinnacle for some, so I’ll start with treasuring that.
Not choosing sides, not adhering to the known and understood forms of support or resistance, not falling in any definable category and by that alone, belonging to an all new condemnable one, all this troubles the illusion of balance, of a perfect functioning system. But that is only in the beginning. After a while, even the anomaly becomes a part of the whole, a part of the system and you find you don’t need any drastically innovative way to deal with it.
But I believe that somewhere in the madness around me, there is still a path that is laid. It doesn’t run for long and can only take me to a point and all it does is give me time. For as long as the path runs, that long I have to decide whatever path I will create and follow at the end of the old one.
If this is euphemism, if this is blind hope, a coward’s excuse, a procrastinator’s new resolution, an immobile, dormant will’s promise to action, then so be it. Whatever gives...