Posted in Questions

Brave the World

How does one find the courage to get out of bed everyday? To change? To work? Do something? Create? Breathe?
After a defeat, after failure, to get up and ‘be’ once more is not easy. To be hammered into box, to fit into a pulpit, to sing a song taught not out of love but legality, how does one begin about the business of everyday? To go back being who you once were. And then while trying to immitate yourself and follow your own footsteps, you come across someone rather familiar.
Amazingly, you had a lot in common with him. He wore the clothes you used to wear. His shoes were not unlike yours. Not a single hair out of place, he looks at you. And this is what he sees; a shrivelled figure in some faded and torn hand-me-downs. A mouldy cabbage for a face, and rotten lettuce leaves for hands. His tread is like that of an old man. Every step causes him to whimper. So, he limps in hope the pain might ease just a bit.
These two look at each other in amazement. Mirror images parted but by time.
Braving the world was never easy. Truth be told, the actual truth was never told. Whispered perhaps, but never spoken out, aloud.
Braving the world, living in it, surviving it, breathing and being- would cost you everything you ever had on you. Including the very flesh, and the blood within, the dreams once aspired, the keen hopes, the spark that beckoned you to keep fighting, everything. Everything, but the soul. Only that is left once the world is braved. And only that too if you don’t sell it to the devil for an easy pass.


If all I can see is my own shadow, I'm in my own light.

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