Dee's Diary

…fOUR fEAR

These fours walls call out at night, dishing out secrets of others that lay here before me. At times they screech, at times the scream, but after a few uncomfortable and sleepless nights, they are my console…

They talk of the meek and the weary…those whose hope of seeing another dawn break was a birth rite they seemed not to posses, but still they lived and died in awe, of how majestic their afterlife will be…

A few of the rich and wealthy took board as well, constantly mumbling how even, with riches, the soft tender touch of a clean conscious as they slept eluded them.  

In injustice and in truth, the grip of fear are the four walls that cloud a judgment and burn bridges to conclusions. Fear silences the inner voice and derives comfort in procrastination. Fear instills imposibillity to our daily words speak, grips our muscles so that we cannot move. 

If fear was a person, he could be the mean bully that made you feign illness just so you could skip school, or the dentist who roothlessly yanked out your first milk tooth. 

As i write, i am in this four walls, charged with multiple counts of fear. Fear of loosing, fear of accepting reality as it were, fear of taking the initiative, but most of all… fear of fear! 

Maybe i fear too much, or maybe just like these fours screeching and screaming, i just got used to it!

Take a look

….Take a look, what do you see? is it the once pretty face now wrinkled and undesirable… or do you see the worn out clothes, that barley covers my back, full of patches and peep holes. Do you look and not see the educated, honoured first class student but rather the outcome of a single mistake?

My friends took off, apparently i lost my place in the helm. They term me as the social parasite now, a ticking bomb…danger!crime scene dont cross. So i look the other way.

My parents are long gone and all the family i have has been reduced to four walls and a tear soaked pillow. They have reserved a portion of land for me, they say. They cannot come neat a cursed child, neither call it their own. Dust to dust, they await to chant!

So take a look at me. A product of disgrace. Even the church shut its doors on a poor helpless soul like me. The bible is my solace and prayer is my new tune. 

I dint choose to be born with it. But neither am i blaming my parents for it. They made choices. Questionable choices. I may be a product of that choice. But i refuse to be defined by it.

 I look at my life and the things i survive and i wonder… Its hard to imagine that i ever got this far…It aint always clear sometimes life isnt fair… 

…Take a look again. Take a deep look and you will see the strong will, the endless desire, the craft behind the art and the unshakable faith and desire for survival.

I was told i had a disease,but all i see is an opportunity. They called me positive. Well they were right. Am possitive about life. Am positive about me.

Take a look. Can you see that? That’s what is called a smile :) 

{#Inspired by a real encounter}