vi.
everywhere is the same at 6 am.
the streets are sticky, the cold is undeniable, the clouds are gray. the sun is nestled in the crook of the hills.
staring at the dew, i realise that hell is everywhere and heaven is in me. heaven is a place of purity, where scars or bitterness cannot pass through. it is a place where your worries are nothing. in this place, you feel heartbeats of possibilities and hope. that is heaven, moments where you are out of your condition, moments where a thirst you were not conscious of is quenched, moments where the sun kisses you, light and sweet, dripping of honey.
i have been in a thick darkness for some time. i have been in a mental prison, where i cleave on to scraps of counterfeit euphoria, and i forget about this heaven. all i have are bursts of hysterical laughter. a nutritious but not sustainable diet.
i am in the recovery stage. there have been days when I wanted was to go; days that death was for the strong and life was for the weak. sometimes, i still feel that way. i know that it is a lie, or is it? how can i base my truth on others? it is convenient, it is imminent, for my survival, but is it the way? perhaps i am too sick to come up with my own set of truths. perhaps this is the perfect time.
what do i know?
I know that we survive, albeit in questionable ways. i know that thriving is merely a fancier way to deal with futility. we either survive or die, or survive and die. the choice is yours. keep in mind that no one wants you to ruin the party. everyone wants to dance to music that although leaves you wanting, does the bare minimum. you are important, but as a light to their path. you are a piece to someone else’s puzzle. although you will be missed, the party goes on, the puzzle will adjust, and you will make for a nice sob story. so do not stay for the people. and do not leave because of them. dance with yourself and for yourself, by yourself, to the rhythm of your jaded yet hopeful heart.
dance. dance. dance.
