MY FATE...

Once again, I have found myself in the midst of something I promised myself was never gonna happen again.

I have found myself in familiar settings and the nostalgia begins to set in.

I believe that whatever happens today will mark the end of my sanctity, as I know it.

A proposal was made to me today; one that has got me thinking far beyond what my mind can comprehend.

I have been made a proposal such that I know what I should do but at the same time; I wanna delve into what the contents of the proposal holds for me.

Morality tells me that I shouldn't even waste my time pondering on what I should tell them;

Tells me that I should look them dead in the eye and say " NO"

That I should feel very insulted and get on my high horse, with whatever is left of my dignity and leave;

While the other part of me, the free willed part of me; the adventurous side tells me that this is something I have always fantasized about.

I have been given an opportunity to make my dreams come true;

I have been invited to the carnal recesses of reality that excites me beyond comprehension.

I shudder to think that I am even taking time to contemplate it.

What does that make me? I believe there is a name for people like me?

People who get excited at the wrongest things. Things that shake the very foundations of morality.

Once again, I am left a willing captive;

Watching the unending battle of wills between good and evil;

Without a mind of my own;

My fate is sealed; I will obey whoever comes out of this fight, a victor.

May the best man win...

...FROM DEEP WITHIN

So today I opened my page on one of the many social networks online and I saw something that struck me so deep, I was moved to write...

Now, I do not know why it hurts me so much or why I am affected like this;

After all, I have moved on and that phase of my life is over and done with.

Could it be that a part of me never really believed that it was over?

Or for the simple fact that I wanted Him to be as hurt as I was?

Maybe I think Karma hasn't done a very good job of giving Him a dose of what He gave me;

I used to think karma was the "Lady Vengeance"; 

Ready to mete out the exact fate on those who have have caused great pain to others...

Whatever it is, Karma hasn't done right by me; cos if She did, I wouldn't be here feeling this way...

What do you do to someone who has literally ripped your heart right out of your chest?

Someone who has managed to create this void that is impossible for anyone else to fill?

How do you even begin to address the mere fact that you really haven't let go of the memories you built?

 Something has been opened within;

A deep wound that I had covered for so long; its a huge gash and it has started to bleed profusely...

I should be happy that in my pain, someone has found happiness...

I should be...

But I am not.

Enough with the rash decisions, I have got to face the fact that regardless of the wall and gates I have erected;

They weren't successful in keeping out the one who I feared the most...

My head is pounding, My heart is beating fast, I try to smile within my building trepidation...

Power has been transferred into the hands of someone who thrives on vulnerability;

Power has been given to someone who feeds on weaknesses...

So once again, I turn to the Fates and the cold embrace of Time's healing hands...

Waiting for them to work their magic; hoping on them to take away what has been done...

This is their area of expertise... 

The taking away of cancerous growths...

borderline...

Picking up my pen, I stare at the paper in front of me;

The paper, like every other thing around me, is blank;

A white mass of blur stays stationery in front of me;

The therapist told me that I should always put my feelings on paper;

So I carry a pen and paper around everywhere I go.

Does it help? At first;

It seemed almost therapeutic to see the things bottled up inside come alive;

But after a week, I gathered up my different pieces and had read them to her;

Session after session...

Until she told me that what I had was a deeply rooted abyss that nothing could fill...

What the hell did that mean?

Everyone has an abyss, I reasoned, everyone had that space that needed to be filled...

Bottom line, she refused to see me again.

So I left, but I kept up that little piece of activity...

It felt kinda good, I needed a release and writing did it for me.

But there are times I dread, times such as this,

Times that not even writing satisfies me;

Times where I feel myself crawling into that unconfortable, brooding space;

Times when the feeling of helplesness drowns me.

I am not one to feel sorry for myself and lament woefully about how things are not working..

Neither am I one to sit and cry and wait for people to help me..

It is what it is...

This thing... I cannot help it;

I cannot fathom it and so I cannot cure it.

This is one of those times;

And once again, my pen and paper fail me...

Music fades quietly, I can't hear the noises of activity

Slowly, the faces of the people I know no longer seems familiar

At times like this, I wish my therapist never quit on me,

It felt good to see that horrid brown couch,

And talk to someone whose as dead as a stone.

But the fun fare is over, its time to settle comfortably to this other phase thats threatening to overcome.

Maybe if I embrace and welcome it, it may decide to leave earlier than usual...

but till then;

Its just me, my pen and my trusty old white piece of paper.