The falling

So it arrived, the darkness, the desire to hide, the longing for a state of numbness, the state of nothingness.  It had been a while, years perhaps. I had spent too long dancing in the light, to the music and the colours and then it had to join the party, one day. That is the way this works. Suddenly, it all weights just too much, and the world on your shoulders becomes a reality. The blame, the shame, the lies, the mistakes, they all come together in a punishing clarity that is only deserving of hell, only with my demons will they find suitable company.  And in this in between is when I realise there is no escaping this. I’ve learnt to function, to hide the joy and the tears, but my insides I cannot run away from.  The forces that could tear a world apart reside within me and they have grown roots in me, ignoring them is purely ridiculous. I have all of their voices in my head telling me it could be otherwise, I could be someone else,  but I am a writer and a dreamer, and becoming other than who I am will tear my world apart. 

I've learnt to function somehow, I bring the highs down with disappointment and the lows come up with hope. And those who judge me think I could change, I could be someone else, someone normal. What they don't realise is that my identity is woven into the highs and the lows, it depends on them, it is them. And that is exactly how it is supposed to be. I am tired of hearing them say to me I can change, I can be someone else. What they don't understand is that this crafted mess, this beautiful disaster, will survive, it will thrive, just as it is. If they let it be. I am not my sisters, or my cousins, or my friends, I am me. A singularity, like we all are.

We are not all made to fit the mold. some of us are brought to this world to challenge the idea that there is a mold. I came into this world broken, having to shape my mind, my soul, my heart to fit the place. And it hurts, every single time, but that is the way I came to this world: shapeless, full of drama, beautiful. In my own way beautiful. And the hurt of living every day becomes a blessing, despite of the judgement Waking up with the darkness and the light fighting a battle you are not even aware of, while you are living life,,, And you are not only a beautiful disaster but the most magnificent of battlefields, the only one you will ever know. And today I can see the darkness winning. But sometimes it has to win...