Friday, 30 July 2010

• Boxed

  I find myself trapped in a box. A box neither uncomfortable nor homely. It's a cubicle I've made for myself, for reasons I remind myself of every day. The world outside is hostile, with its glaring grey eyes and its sharp tongue. There are people out there who will ravage and destroy. There are people out there who will not forgive nor forget. And I find myself in my box, alone and insecure, afraid to experience the world but never daring to show that fear. The box is not uncomfortable. I can live in my box, unharmed by the cold embrace of the reality that is society. I am not like my peers, who shudder at the mere thought of spending fleeting moments alone. No I can be alone. I can enjoy alone. Until the seed of the idea, an idea so revolutionary that it will turn my box inside out, invades my thoughts. The idea that maybe, somewhere in the hostile world that rejects the essence of my being, someone is out there, staring at me, waiting. Waiting for the day that I step out of my box. Waiting for me to stare back into hery eyes with wisdom and understanding. Comprehension of the fact that I have finally found a being whose fibers resonate purely with mine. Someone whose brightness shines warmly in the cold, dark and lonely object I call my heart. I stand now at the summit of my life. Will I choose to live amongst the stars, with the chilling snow clawing at my skin? Or will I choose to descend into fiery battlefield, where bitter souls fight to their deaths. I can only hope that I can find my light, the north star that will guide me home. For now, all I have is my box.

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