A guilty Confession
Seated at the edge of the precipice, I looked yonder for a sigh of relief. Amiss the horizon, a giant wave formed in the Stillwater, and it headed towards my direction. The closer it got, the sheer size of the tide shifted my thoughts. I knew then that I was afraid, that I was not okay.
Horrid and abysmal thoughts popped in my head with grotesque contempt. It was a horror film playing in my subconscious, and I was the only guest. Bad memories were taking the shapes of Sludge-covered Zombies. And instead of them repeating "brains," each loudly said, all the ways my life seemed meaningless.
None solution seemed prevalent in the situation or be beneficial. The whole world felt barren, and I felt my thoughts, and I walked in the wasteland for years, in my birthday suit. I despise the sight of me, the reflection that reeks of failure. I dislike myself right now. I said out loud to Dixie, my mute friend. Over the last 13 years, she didn't have a choice but to know the full extent of my pains. She witnessed my attempts to come out of it, efforts to let go. We built an intimate relationship that Shakespeare woefully puts as "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."
And as fortunate I was, I didn't feel it in my guts.
From inside the car, the sky looked unpleasant. There was a chasm with a red and purple hue, and it looked torn open. As if someone did it on purpose, maybe to scare all the clouds and forgot to sew it back. And that made the vista give off an eerie sensation. It felt that the car vents wafted a pungent odor that suffocated and choked the joy out of sadness. The vile stench caused the mindless chatters to mute and pause. And for a moment, I felt something was about to happen. And something did. There was a flash of lightning struck, and the heaven split.
While everything was happening, the conscious mind recorded all of it. In real-time, data streamed in the mind and overheated the mental circuit. For an hour, I sat with an awkward and uncomfortable feeling, paralyzed to move. I understood that I was alone, inside a car, watching my thoughts recycle every ten minutes. And then, the mind shifted. It witnessed a gust of wind drop Spring leaves to fall on the cold pavement, one at a time.
The chasm excreted rain, and the raindrops fell on my lap. At that moment, the water felt cold and salty. I exited the car, and the rain stopped for a second. On my tenth step, it began to drizzle uncontrollably. I felt heavy and weak that my knees started to shake. The amalgamation of confusion planted me on the curb. This time, there wasn't enough time to run back to the car.
The rain flooded me with emotions, and I let it bring me back to the river, then to the ocean. There was another storm brewing in the distance, carrying the sound waves of the whale cry. My soul felt lost in the Sea. I felt what abandoned Pi felt when he was in the Sea, with a starving Lion. But I wasn't lost in the Sea. I was seated on the curb, tasting the saltwater dripping from the heavens.
Time withered, eroding senses and numbed the stinging feeling. It felt intense at times, hard to handle, and then subsided like a sea wave crashing ashore. It felt reassuring to know what I went through and was going through. Part of me started to accept the fear of not knowing where it will lead. I realized then that the black pavement absorbed it all; Drip Drip. Each drop raised questions, and I felt that I was beneath the flood. I thought, who would give me the answers? And there was no one. I was glad that no one was. I thought, how embarrassing it would be if someone saw or told me another lie.
All of a sudden, the dark alley fell silent. It brought fear, unwarranted demons that lurked in the shadows. I forgot about them, overlooked them for too many years. I got up, walked back and forth on ideas that made sense, and then they didn't. I said out loud, How can I get rid of them? I was the Rain Man beneath the flickering street light. Reality felt dysfunctional, and I felt that my memories were blinding me from the truth. Everything spiraled out of control, and I landed on the sidewalk.
The dual-energy caused a big bang in my mind. The shadow beneath me felt sticky and annoying. It reminded me of chewing gum beneath the shoes. I reached to grab it with disgust, to toss and throw it. Far away. I couldn't, and it was frustrating to know that I was with something, have something, and always will. I couldn't talk to it, feel it, or touch it.
The world felt cold, and it started to slow down. The Micky Mouse on my wrist waved the seconds away. Everything was slipping out of my reach. I could see bugs flapping their tiny wings and headed straight towards the street light. From afar, I could see people laughing and moving their mouths. And then I looked at my shadow, and it did nothing. Who was I? Who looked afar, saw the bugs and the people? Who is talking?
The voices in my head felt like homeless street beggars asking for change. The conversation felt misunderstood, unwanted, and meaningless to entertain. One thought drove the conversation while the other stared, listened, and waited to insert one conjecture. I was the listener and the speaker. The listener heard all the rant, ideas, and whatnots and then asked the speaker to contribute; "what do they think?" It spoke for a moment and then got cut off.
The frustration grew, and taking turns to listen didn't seem to work. I felt that I was a culprit and the victim. I taught myself this bad habit. The difference between then and now is that I proactively see the error of my ways and think that I am walking to salvation. Egotistical? Maybe I am a bit. I don't particularly appreciate myself when I suck up the juices from any conversation and feel satisfied. The instant gratification feels cheap. It doesn't reassure me that I can reciprocate and value what others did for me.
What of the listener? What do they feel? Think? Thought? Wanted to say? Unanswered questions become a tormented rage storm in mind. When in solitude, I feel compelled to want to know what they thought, felt, and wanted to say. Knowing it was wrong of me to privy the moment and trampled on the first impression, I sought retribution. Earnestly, I want to provide the respect in total that I disregarded.
When did I become rude? A deceptive creature who forgot to value a person, what's on the inside and not on the outside. The stories written in their mind stone, big and tall, contain emotions and full of meaningful events that shaped a person. Unabashedly, my standard has become a selfish attention whore that reaps other's desires as my own.
Now is a different "now" and will be going forward. There is a value within me that exists to appease what I desire. I can win, and it may not be now, but I must see it through. If I give in to the moment and allow it to beat me senselessly, I would lose before the fight even begun. I am the contender, and I am not going down without a fight. I have a new goal set, to practice, learn, and prepare for the contest. That one day, I will be the person worth fighting.
