“I have always been a witness to the Sun’s wrestle and the Night’s flickering adieu. My eyes are becoming blind. I’m afraid I can no longer see light but pure darkness devouring that glim above my lighted candle”
I couldn’t remember my childhood. It’s as if my memory started when I felt I was born the second time around. I had lost nearly a decade of memory. Was it too traumatic for me to recall? My parents told not to worry about it. Nobody remembered their early childhood, yet it still lingered on my mind, a misty fog that was very tangible, but when I tried to run away from it. It haunted me down unrelentingly. Like most teenagers in our town, I dreamed that life for me would be perfect, that smiling would be easy for me to handle. But I was wrong. I dreamed too much. Life is a cycle of happiness to sadness, of love and hatred, and of failure to success. I couldn’t escape away from it. Even how I hid and drowned myself, invisibility? They were all no use because I was bound to experience life’s mystic fate since the day I gained my consciousness. There was once a time I thought that life was a beast. A disfigured beast like the ones I read about in fairy tales. It was the ogre under the bridge, the wicked witch who tried to steal every fairy tale princesses happy ever after. I thought there was no happiness for me. I thought there would never be.
I wondered why life was so dreadful to me. I felt like I was unwanted. Sometimes I thought that all my efforts were not enough to have the ideal life I desired since yesterday. I was done drowning myself with too much hope. I was done wishing for a kinder fate. I was done swallowing all the rejections that poisoned my faith. I was done, yet not enough.
There may be a considerable truth to the adage. “Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor. Then it hit me, life’s unfairness had always been a toxic to my every step in life’s infinite ladder. It was tragic, and that made me poor. God knew how I loathe myself for being envious about others ability to laugh and to plaster a smile in their faces amidst circumstances in life. Well, I could too, but it was all faked. Behind my laughter were the lines of my sunken face where pain was planted deep-rooted. Behind every smile I painted laid with sadness and bits of animosity that I kept since I didn’t know when. They were not recognized, they were unseen and not felt. I was in the middle of chasing pavements, the point of a circle, the axis of rotation. I was close to twilight, between day and night, light and darkness, sanity and insanity but I chose not to see light.
My life was never been the life I wanted, I dreamed. I knew the reasons behind it. I was crashed by my negative thoughts. I was a pessimist and the above statements were my solid evidence. I was the disfigured beast I was talking about. It was me who would steal everybody’s happy ending, my happy ending. It was me who ruled my life and I chose not to see light. But that was yesterday before I came into realization that life has two equal sides. The one I experienced and the other that was ignored. I was engrossed by life’s unfairness, that I was not able to flip the other side of the coin. I was a fool for not realizing that I let darkness covered everything in me. I was indeed blind, but not now, not today, not forever.
