As I was looking through my drafts folder, I stumbled upon something that I've written a year ago. Reading through it, I felt the anger, the conflict flowing through this. And it's funny how that anger is gone by now. How one simple event can change all of that.
Your feelings will change. And everything in life is temporary. So try to make the best of it.
Now let's go see what my seventeen year old self was thinking of. With a few edits, of course.
Everything is dark, black, silent.
The only exception being a spotlight that shines down on a long metal tightrope. The ones that you would see in circuses, as people held their breath wondering if the performers were going to make it out whole again.
It is hard to see how high up the tightrope is. But from the vast emptiness that surrounds it, you can perceive that it is dangerously high. And from your spot on the floor, that is nothing but air, you cannot tell how many inches, feet, miles it stretches to and fro. But the only thing that you can tell is that the tightrope is very long indeed.
It’s cold and empty. Bitter words starts to enter your thoughts. Yet, they don’t stay for long, when something almost unusual starts to happen.
Another step and a gasp of surprise, when my body starts to lean towards one side of the gaping darkness. For something was grabbing at my stick. But the funny thing was, in that moment, and that moment only, I felt almost free. For when I was close to plummeting to my death, I felt a delicious amount of evil creep up my spine. It wraps me in its cold, sweet embrace. Whispering in my ears. Encouraging me to do something quite evil for once. To feel smug when someone else starts to suffer. To see the hurt that binds itself to their eyes. As they slowly realize that there truly is a monster found inside of me.
Another gasp, another tug, but this time it was on the other end of the stick. My legs are the air, trying to regain some kind of balance. Only it was hard when I find myself feeling so confined. Some kind of light washes over me. Begging me, forcing me to continue doing good. To help others freely, even though it knows that I won't receive the same help if I asked for it in return. It asks me to love others just as much as I love myself, even though it knew that some of them did not deserve it. And throughout it all, it yells at me to keep my anger. To hold it all in, and to continue being the "sweet" little angel that I was supposed to be.
Little realizing that I’m actually a volcano, just waiting for the day when it all blows over. And all the people around me are nothing more than glass. Easily broken. Easily cracked. And easily thrown away.
Your feelings will change. And everything in life is temporary. So try to make the best of it.
Now let's go see what my seventeen year old self was thinking of. With a few edits, of course.
Everything is dark, black, silent.
The only exception being a spotlight that shines down on a long metal tightrope. The ones that you would see in circuses, as people held their breath wondering if the performers were going to make it out whole again.
It is hard to see how high up the tightrope is. But from the vast emptiness that surrounds it, you can perceive that it is dangerously high. And from your spot on the floor, that is nothing but air, you cannot tell how many inches, feet, miles it stretches to and fro. But the only thing that you can tell is that the tightrope is very long indeed.
It’s cold and empty. Bitter words starts to enter your thoughts. Yet, they don’t stay for long, when something almost unusual starts to happen.
~.~.~
I take a deep breath, trying to calm down the confusing th-thump, th-thump, th-thumping of my heartbeat. But it’s hard when everything around me is so… distracting. Another step forward, another deep breath. Glad that I didn’t stumble and fall into this gaping darkness. If it weren’t for this balancing pole, I would have fallen long ago.Another step and a gasp of surprise, when my body starts to lean towards one side of the gaping darkness. For something was grabbing at my stick. But the funny thing was, in that moment, and that moment only, I felt almost free. For when I was close to plummeting to my death, I felt a delicious amount of evil creep up my spine. It wraps me in its cold, sweet embrace. Whispering in my ears. Encouraging me to do something quite evil for once. To feel smug when someone else starts to suffer. To see the hurt that binds itself to their eyes. As they slowly realize that there truly is a monster found inside of me.
Another gasp, another tug, but this time it was on the other end of the stick. My legs are the air, trying to regain some kind of balance. Only it was hard when I find myself feeling so confined. Some kind of light washes over me. Begging me, forcing me to continue doing good. To help others freely, even though it knows that I won't receive the same help if I asked for it in return. It asks me to love others just as much as I love myself, even though it knew that some of them did not deserve it. And throughout it all, it yells at me to keep my anger. To hold it all in, and to continue being the "sweet" little angel that I was supposed to be.
Little realizing that I’m actually a volcano, just waiting for the day when it all blows over. And all the people around me are nothing more than glass. Easily broken. Easily cracked. And easily thrown away.
And now the weather:
~ Stacy N.
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