I currently am in a very, well, different place in my life.
I feel quite lost, doubtful of all those around me. I wonder if I would ever be able to trust again.
Again, pity is not what I wish to receive, nor is help. Perhaps this provides a hug to someone in need for it some time in history. So I shall narrate my pain, as a not-so-strong girl.
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The past year has broke me in ways I have never thought possible. I entered university with an already broken soul, glued together by effort of gold. Now I realize that it was not shattered, it was simply broken into many pieces. Many things in me were broken, I were to mend them one by one into a beautiful vase, that I now call my past self.
You see, the Chinese, when they would put back a broken vase and fill the cracks with gold, they were only able to do so because the pieces were big enough to be put back together.
But speak about being shattered.
Dear, the pieces are so tiny, you mistake them for ash.
Dear, you only know ash for what is to burned,
and you burn with all the hurt.
Dear, you only know ash for what is to be buried,
and you feel hopelessness of the dead.
People tell you to just pull yourself back together.
People tell you to just make all the right choices.
People tell you what the right thing to do is.
“we love you.”
“we care for you.”
“it will pass.”
But dear, don’t you know, I have to go through the passing before it passes.
But dear, do you not know, the messed up in me compels me to what hurts me.
But dear, do you not know, within each kindness used time and time again, as its tongue is left paralyzed by the sheer strength of willpower, lies a monster so evil so alive that torture is within its fantacies, but the angel within allows only it to hurt the one it beholds as shelter.
And I realized today that I am the shelter to all my angels, but also to all my demons, to all my inner monsters and destroyers.
Dear I am not acquainted with the inners of all the rest I live around. Though, what I have learned is that guardians’ demons can be passed on through the touch of their claws upon the prey’s soul, the prey’s heart. Yet it takes an exceptional extent of humanity, of rawness, of vulnerability to be touched.
I think that is indeed the sad part, it is only the pure that can be stained. Because you see, we are all pure, we truly are every single person, but purity it does not survive, it is targeted by the claws of a predator. Just pens and colors target only the white papers.
That’s the thing, we aren’t papers, we are humans. Beautiful creatures, we are given the ability to forgive, to be kind, to love, to give out of love. And it is only the pure that can face their stains and cleanse their souls, that can be hurt over and over again. It is only the stained that are not cleansed that can stain time and time again.
So, when we say that when we are hurt we should not trust, when we are betrayed we should see everyone with an evil perspective, when we are unloved we should hurt. Do you not see the problem here?
Aren’t we deciding the replay of pain, and the birth of greater pains?
-Yellow
