A Different Shade of Beige

A Different Shade of Beige

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Oct 26, 2019
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Poetry
The stories of my childhood. The stories of my continuously changing self. The stories of me. These are the stories that tell about what my life has been like, and show how I am changing over time. This is a collection of vignettes that showcase my memories and my personality. After all, I'm just a different shade of beige. (Inspired by The House On Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros)
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#34
beliefs
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This day wasn't an exception. I cried over and over until I could no longer, I wiped my tears and took the packages in my arms after opening the door. In the house, nothing new. They were still talking, so I had time to drop off the packages, and without even opening one, I headed to the showers, cleaned my face with water, and went to my room. This is roughly how my days as a child went. I know that it cannot be described as an ideal childhood, but it would certainly be the most beautiful period of my life. Despite family conflicts, school conflicts, loneliness, and fear, I was happy. I was happy because they were all there, happy because they always remained, despite my faults, and happy. After all, I knew that I had not yet experienced the worst. Happy because I knew, that sooner or later everything would end. So yes, I was as cowardly and useless as they all claimed and even more naive than they would have believed, but this vision that I had at that age kept me going. Although the truth was hard to accept, I was given no choice. So I accepted life as it came; I accepted myself and my truth, my weaknesses, and the fact that I had to get used to the idea that I would always be the first actor to die in films.

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