I don’t feel funny today. I feel strange, and there are strange things stirring within me, alien things, reaching out from somewhere deep within me and moulding my mind into a motley of shapes which make no sense. I feel strange today.
Maybe I’m slowly changing, bit by bit, molecule by molecule, my being slowly slipping away like grains of sand through fingers, and a different someone taking my place. She is slightly more confident of herself, she can laugh away things that need to be, her strength, which is still only burning embers, and not a roaring fire, has flared from within her, her eyes smile a lot and her less-than-perfect teeth flash at every available opportunity. She is growing, her steps are wobbly, but ambitious, and she knows that must she fall, she should take it lightly; she can always get back on her feet again.
A resolve is building within me. I must change, for the better. I will try my best to do away with the parts dragging me down, the parts which leave me breathless with despair, horrified with misery and trapped with desperation. I will try my best to obliterate the pieces of me which make me mean, narrow-minded and short-sighted, which only help me observe, not see.
Oh but I am still here, this body is still mine, my laughter still sounds the same, and yet I’ll be glad to lose a little bit of me for good. Just so that something new can find its place, just so that the room has some yellow sunshine, some fresh air and the waft of fresh buds.
It smells like winter now… the mornings are a little colder, the water a little chilly, and my lips a little dry… The days are keener to disappear, and Nature is ready to lie still for a while. And in that stillness is change. I can feel it building, here, there, everywhere.
Maybe I’m slowly changing, bit by bit, molecule by molecule, my being slowly slipping away like grains of sand through fingers, and a different someone taking my place. She is slightly more confident of herself, she can laugh away things that need to be, her strength, which is still only burning embers, and not a roaring fire, has flared from within her, her eyes smile a lot and her less-than-perfect teeth flash at every available opportunity. She is growing, her steps are wobbly, but ambitious, and she knows that must she fall, she should take it lightly; she can always get back on her feet again.
A resolve is building within me. I must change, for the better. I will try my best to do away with the parts dragging me down, the parts which leave me breathless with despair, horrified with misery and trapped with desperation. I will try my best to obliterate the pieces of me which make me mean, narrow-minded and short-sighted, which only help me observe, not see.
Oh but I am still here, this body is still mine, my laughter still sounds the same, and yet I’ll be glad to lose a little bit of me for good. Just so that something new can find its place, just so that the room has some yellow sunshine, some fresh air and the waft of fresh buds.
It smells like winter now… the mornings are a little colder, the water a little chilly, and my lips a little dry… The days are keener to disappear, and Nature is ready to lie still for a while. And in that stillness is change. I can feel it building, here, there, everywhere.
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