I look at myself in the mirror. Who is this guy? My greatest
fear is my biggest motivation.
I look at what I have gained, I see myself shading it off, I
have changed; no I have turned, not really … I am turning into something. Into what?
How does one do it? You know, get a plan to get through
life. I met someone and that became my plan. I didn’t know it at the time but
that became my plan. Is that what it is Lord? Will something come up to open a
whole new plan for me?
I have been lucky … so far; or was it you Lord, have you
always been there lurking in the background, why do you like the background so
much or is it my fault you are there? Why does every sentence in my head start
with a why or end with a question mark?
Yesterday I found out that I am still up for selection for
the Olympics. I mean how ridiculous is that? Obviously I am not gonna make it. I
have known that for the longest of time, come to terms with it and then ; I am
told I got nominated!
I mean why even bother? I know better but why do I get told,
why scratch that healing wound again?
Even if it was possible that a miracle should place me
there, why now when I don’t have any thrill for it as it should be? Why wait
for me to make my plans and then you go place a damn nomination that has no
chance? And why ask me to fight for what’s clearly not mine? Why even try, why
do I even fee this way?
I look at myself again, obviously I have seen something. The
effect it has all had on me. The movies I have just watched, the training I just
did, the work I just performed, the music I just heard, the dream I just
experienced, the hopes I just renewed, the love I have just basked in, the girl
I just met, the kids I just played with, the news I just got, the people who
have just visited me, the book I just read, the junk I just enjoyed online, the
time I just wasted invested enjoying it. It’s all had an effect on me. What’s
this?
It’s the stuff I have just written, the proof that I have
changed, the difference from yesterday, same everything different day, amazing
how much changes with time, how none is kept the same because it is affected just
by being kept.
Somehow something has got it covered, we need not hustle so
hard, I thought this was meant for you, I don’t even know if it’s meant for me
after all what’s really mine? Even my name is not mine, it was given, I didn’t even
take it, I just accepted it coz that’s what I was called. I didn’t even have a
choice in loving it, I had to because it is what it is and so is you. You are a
part of me just like that name.
I don’t even know where this is going, whom am talking to,
where this is coming from, what it all means. I don’t have to because it simply
is.
I flip around to look at this upside down and still I see me
top-down, yellow walls, white ceiling, a few snubs here and there but a generally
good reaction, all is quiet for once and my thoughts are screaming at me; I had
drowned them in sound, I close my eyes and wonder why I nod to things am not
convicted about, why I smile at people that exhaust me, why I have to say
things that have holes in them and wonder why some people never notice this.
‘This is my conscience speaking’ am interrupted
‘You need to shut up right now and turn the music back on’
‘Yes sir’
I drop my pen and open my eyes …
‘Weird’
‘shuuuuusshhh!!’’
‘’ okay! Okay!’’ smiley faces J J
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