season's greetings!

Feeling somber.

I often want to say much

But all there is is silence.

Silence, and a weight on my shoulder ,

and a fist in my throat,

and a boulder in my chest -

neither of which I'm able to channel.

So I sit with it.

Just as I have learnt to sit

with lonesomeness,

and boredom;

I sit with that boulder in my chest

and wait for it to dissipate,

whenever it shall - in its time.

I grapple with the muffled artist inside,

Suffocating in the loudness

and astonishing silence of the season -

an oxymoron really.

I think of the lightness of days long gone,

I think of staying alive.

I almost catch a glimpse of my reflection

against the shriveled lives of others

Those whose dreams grew wings and flew into Neverland.

They stood there watching them

slowly disappear into the horizon;

They took on a new mission -

a new season's prosperity gospel

dangled in their faces,

a vision of the green and gold

in exchange for their dreams.

A seeming "better portion".

I saw it was a lousy trade of barter.

I prayed that I would overcome

the god of capitalism.

That I would choose different.

I think of easier days.

Tea time till the ungodly third hour of night, just down the road.

When I briskly galloped to my bed before the sun lit a spotlight stop my head mid-way,

as judgement; how dare I turn night into day!

But then, we had time.

Day and night was a blur.

I could afford a late night.

I think of the quick snack by the roadside,

best served on a rumbling stomach.

I think of convenience, and familiarity.

I chuckle at the memory of mannerisms,

how I reacted just as she would.

How that hug would enshroud this moment.

How life must go on.

I sit in this space long enough.

Mindfully scrolling down my gallery.

Then finally, catharsis.

Tears roll down my cheeks.

I'm brought back from my wandering,

I'm present now.

I can feel the wiggle at the ends of my toes.

The clock did not stop, not for a second.

I'm alive after all.

So I owe it to myself to live.

As best as I can, anyway.

I turn to my side,

and close my eyes

as I lay me down to sleep.

I pray that my soul be kept,

that the angels would watch me

through the night,

and wake me up in the morning light.

On a good day,

I clock the end of my prayer.

Most times, I'm grateful for the sleep

that befalls me,

knocks me out of my senses.

It is for the good.

Time stops for a moment there.

Then it's morning again.

I live to push through another day.

___

“Release, before you rethink” is the thought in my mind as I clean up this entry. In the spirit of doing it raggedy, doing it anyway, here we are! A moment in time condensed into this article. Would be interesting to look back at this a year from now when my circumstances will be different. I'd be happy for the growth I would have seen in the course of time. After all, the only constant thing in life is change.

Time will pass anyway.