CHAPTER 5 – Emotions Evoked
“Tears of life, persuasive way to claim victory”
There is a place nicknamed MGP, known as Mogopa, where I originate, I was living with my Grandmother because my mother was working far away from home, In about that time I didn’t know who my biological father was, my mother hated it every time when I mentioned his name, and she didn’t want to discuss anything about him. My life started on without a father. Sometimes I felt like God did me wrong, everyone had been saying everything happens for a reason.
I immersed into some sort of realization, that perhaps I have been fooled. Fooled by the circles of what’s below the actual means, polluted by dark snows, in the mist of clouded rains, torn apart by time lost and the trauma. When at times I was stricken by reality, how my eyes faded away from the truth. Every Judgment from human, felt real, embracing the person I am not through all given thoughts and opinions. The impure qualities of humanity, the danger of what I have become. The more I nurtured, that’s when I sucked my thumb. The beauty, from which I saw, was the flow of blood. I wanted my mind to be emancipated from all deception. I secluded myself in a dark hole for a life of anguish and desolation, grew within the elation of being pitied, and couldn’t break through out of my own despondency.
The busiest day in my life was figuring out my path, dreams I’ve had, lies I’ve lived. Making all sort of demands to be made feel special, to be known, to live, to be an existence of all presence. The sovereign I wanted to construct, the life that I wanted to re-build. Simple gestures of life that flooded my life with doubts, loving myself less than what I expected in the eyes of another. Everything appeared seamlessly, so I had me hoodwinked, felt like a drought of sense, humor and life. My broken heart lies beneath fallen skies. I don’t understand my world, yet my world is trying to understand me. All of my desires packed within, sealed with low self-esteem. What if, the only words of my own encouragement.
“The lack of liveliness because of the life to live and to live to die”, the voices said that could be a raison d’être to give in. Yet, words not enough to describe reasons to be and let be. Obsessed about the past, a shelter built full of times of yore. I never realized how much this could help me put pieces back together. It never made any sense at first but then it occurred to me that I’ve pulled a trail of agony, and it had got me to this far, and that’s because I let it happen, I am here because I made it through all of that. If I made it then, why wouldn’t I now? Overcoming a struggle lately seemed as a burden we carry through with us, all the way to the end of the road, made me wonder why. I talk the talk, it’s the walk that my feet got strapped with a ticking boom of all the miserable life I lived, “Lived?”, how is it then affecting what’s ahead. I walked to a certain point in life, it felt like I have walked enough yet it has only been few steps. My core inner feelings sheltered within yet exposed to the past, vulnerable, with such small amount of some sort of time to explode into tears. It’s misty outside, and there are people walking through that mist. I was never one with the people.
Questions I asked, why it had to be her, when there are so many bad people in this poor world. Why didn’t it be one of them? I can never change what had happened; I know we all choose how we want to end a hurtful journey to start a happier one. In a middle of a smile, at times it just doesn’t feel right. This I felt few days after my relocation, yet I know it might have been triggered by the behavior I am often not used to. In a long run, I begged to ask, will it ever be worth it? How can this particular event about a loss of a family be a blessing in disguise? It’s hard to accept and let go of the things you can’t change. What is the use? My fear as a child wasn’t that I may commit suicide, only if that was easier, also it may have occurred number of times in my dreams, but I never had enough courage to do it, what I feared most was that I could be next in that list and that I wasn’t ready to face death. I go around looking deep in other places, looking for that one thing that may have been hidden beneath the deeper lies, something to hold on to. Memories are never enough, enough is not a word enough to describe a bit of a single fraction of what my heart desired. It saddens me to be having memories I never had, that of my Sister, My half-brother, and my Dad. My Mother on the other hand, I had her for 14 years, when those with my siblings are of no number, and my dad’s?
“NO! Stop it”.
The mistress stopped me from drowning myself. Looking down into what have happened, and gazing at some things in life, things that not one soul can explain. The scenario was that you find yourself sitting with the loved one, the person that means the world to you and yet, there’s no one sign that that one particular moment could be the last, the last touch, the last kiss, the last breath, because we are always hoping for better days and even much happier days. See, happiness is valued by all, the world of piece, endearment, and love with the one’s you truly want to spend your life with. We look the other way when facts are told that someday one is guaranteed to stop from breathing. With all the tears we cry I often see it as tears of life, persuasive way to claim victory, tears that we cry, because of all the things that happens in our lives, for the fact that we know that we only have this chance at life, it’s the only chance to go all out and claim our own sit, and start living this precious life like no other.
“One day, you’ll have a story to tell”
“Indeed I will”
“You promise?” he asked
A conversation I had with my best friend, looking into his live. He had everything I desired, everything I had lost. As he had minor fights with his little brother and he was back chatting, later on, they were hugging and joyful, that brought tears into my eyes, because I had always, through my entire life pictured that in my head, those moments are priceless.
“I promise.” I said.
It’s often so sad, to be in this world and all that you think of is what was, that you are on your own and you have to make everything possible for yourself, you are all you got to survive. That mother-love is no more. The words “It’s up to you” gave me shivers and sleepless nights. I knew what I wanted, it was the how part that was the most difficult. It’s a trickery life we live; this reminds me of a woman I met for a very short period of time. It felt like a series of what I had seen in the lover’s eyes, I had climbed to the peak of the mountain, searching for the end of the peak to look down into what I had known for a short period of time. I cried out let’s start over, because I convinced myself that I loved her and never got the chance to prove it. We had even spoken of double dating; the words that extended my heart beat with joy. She made me say the words, and then she just dropped me off a mountain peak. I wondered if she’d ever come back, the song in mind. I walk along a descending mood to unsettled feelings. Letters, words and feelings inscribed.
“I cannot believe that perhaps I had hopes about us. You made me feel need you awkwardly even more, when you walked out that door. I was in love with you for that one single second. The second I can’t seem to get rid of, my heart ruined it when I fell deeper and deeper. I get mad only because I believed in us, I am furious, my mind, heart and soul, you had it all. How do you in turn look at me and tell me, it’s over. I am not writing this down because I want us to start over, you not allowing your heart to look into the eyes of the heart that truly needs to be with someone like you. You said too many times that you loved me; the only mistake I made is that I believed it, and knowing of your existence is what I regret most. The pain you caused me, excuses you made, making me feel guilty, for things I didn’t do. For the first time in my life, I actually thought … you are real, you are and I am, yet I was the only one in it. You fooled me into believing, you deceived me into loving, and you twisted the only sentiment that’s left of me. You crushed me over and over. Each day pass by, just pretending that I am actually fine. When I am hurting, I don’t know how I actually make it through a day. I trusted you easily. I see you, and I see nothing different than the rest of `em. I will take the blame yet again, for loving you, funny that I still do, funny that every night you cross my mind, and I pretend and try so hard to ignore it, yet you still there. I did build a place for you in my heart, now I have a huge space in your name and yet no one is home; see love had me fooled yet again.”
Those were my last words to her, when she had said that she’s stopped caring and living her life like it’s full of gold sparkles. I chuckled quietly in pain, from where I was standing was just one of those moments, trying to figure out how could I’ve believed all that she had said, wondered if she ever cared at all. But that was just a glance in the past. Although every bit of the life I was living felt like that, that I have lived before. I kept losing bits and pieces of everything that meant a lot to me, but I never faked love, I’ve always faked hatred. The storms got heavier and heavier I wondered if it’ll get any easier as time progressed, that one chance of life cannot be that of misery for the few of its remaining years. I didn’t want to believe that, because in my eyes I saw clearer through pain, even though at times I turned a blind eye, I honestly knew it’ll get better in time but then again I would ask myself that if time heals, how is it that after 10 years it still feels the same way when I was only 14. I looked into it with disbelieve. I think a happier life heals. Time doesn’t do much, it takes love to heal, and takes love to hurt, time is only allocated for moments like that. A smallest fraction of hurt opened old and forgotten wounds, then it felt like I was back again to where it began. I have my own healing moments, my own world in my head, the world of no worries, the world of piece, in the middle of undesired natures, when I have no hope to hang on to comes that feeling. “Oh it’s a good feeling” as I said with such joy, It breaks through my internal system, It mends all broken hearts. You laugh, you dance, you rejoice, feels like you at the peak of your best self. You know, you began to believe and see that everything is going to be okay. You feel set free, like the sun starts to shine brighter. You feel heaven’s wings, such a warmth hug, and tears of joy over flowing, the mystery cannot be explained. I am at peace, and no distractions shall prosper, but it was just a temporary feeling. I hate to believe that I went through that all for nothing and if that’s the case, the question to ask is, was my life worth it at all. I also knew that my mother gave birth to someone, someone who will make a difference and I do stand with my words. When hope strikes you on your face, like the thrash of the waves, repeatedly, you start to believe, and you keep the faith.
“Zack, Come on!!!” A voice from a distance called.
“What happening?” I asked.
I was young to understand the meaning of time but, I knew something was amiss. I still see myself walking in a road where there’s so many potholes that I still fall into. There aren’t sidewalks, Jay walking, or short cuts to a speedy discovery or to a journey away from the one that’s so confusing to understand. I guess to sum it up there isn’t speedy recoveries to the heart that’s dismantled.
There I am in a small room one night; I was trying to delineate how to walk passed all these potholes, when in fact the only way out was in. It may have seemed that my path was too much to bear, but I knew that one day, one good day, all will be forgotten and my name will be known not just as a kid who lived a life but also as a kid who was driven from all paths to one particular and that he deserves all that he has accomplished in life. We all have our days, we have our downfalls, and we are all walking towards the same end, singing songs of joy trying to heal some of the wounds that helped me in times of headaches. I often look into the mirror, yes I am young I am still trying to figure how to get myself out of my miserable life, and I’d see a dreamer, but then how useless dreaming can be without any planning or initiating on a different path towards that dream. You might think that people dream big, but I dream bigger. My mind is that of a soul that’s yet to be valued, appreciated, respected, not because I am arrogant, but because that’s who I chose to be.
“Words over flowing in my brain, I can’t stop it, this is too much for me, I think I am losing my mind. All I have is blurry images; I have no other means of explaining what might be happening to me. I don’t even know the definition if this is what’s called depression. I need a moment or two with myself. Please do not interrupt me, all I need to do right now is to lock the door and be on my own, in my bed.”
I was only running way from my own thoughts, as they were too alive and real, I needed some rest, that perhaps maybe when I wake up, all this would be gone.
A feast of irruption attained with a spear full of blood, yet ironically a consolation for the future. Walking amongst many with a heart that’s still inward and isolated by veins, flowing bloods of doubts yet known as a healing process. My skies are gloom and my days have part ways. Seek and go beyond the limitless surface of my innermost thoughts, it’s a death row down there. Bedtimes are a worst nightmare yet my mornings are the worst-startup-tour. The sun rays aligned at an angle tilted through a hole of a dark room, behind, barricaded by a psyche who’s scared that he might get burned. Lost, confused and battling to erupt from my uneasy unconsciousness. Insipid is the life as the joy is eluded, brushed off by her allotted span of life, eased in times of need. I go along the sides that most affected me, making stones that have yet to be thrown at me. My conscious is aware of the consequences; there will be no recuperation of any sort to mend a broken sprit. Despite that fact, I’ve always treated my dreams like when one is harvesting honey, no matter how many times you’ll be stung, you keep going for more until you get that honey. Running out into the street, away from what I was carrying, yet I thought I had left it behind. The load was too heavy; all that I had in mind was to survive my way out.
“Be ferocious and ramble on your pain” whispered a voice.
Even though I knew what to do and the best move to make, I needed someone, somebody, and anybody. I understand the concept of the battle, but when hells break loose and there isn’t a place to hide, sometimes we need someone to pray with. I am now focused my energy on something that’s not going to benefit me in the future although I had asked too many questions that if that’s indeed the case, why is it playing such a bigger role, invading in my space and make me look miserable.
“Be ferocious and ramble on your pain …”
I am trying to find my way, in this gloomy days, I am trying to walk again for I have been stationary. My mind is the one led astray, I don’t want to believe. I refuse to believe, I am hopeless. That single gleam that might kept me in my right minds is no more. I am now faced with the monster.
“Be ferocious and ramble on your pain …”
I keep hearing the voices, fighting them to stop; I thought I was losing it. I thought I was crazy. I just wished my mother would come to me in a dream, just to let me know that all will come to an end and that brighter days are yet to come. I waited for the dream that was never going to be dreamed. A dream of a nightmare I had faced with was that of reality.
“Be ferocious and ramble on your pain …”
Fourth time, I am having a sleepless night, I can’t find my way to go to sleep, I am fighting myself to sleep, I am going crazy this time, please leave me alone creature. I am tossing and turning, the light began to flick, then I woke up, kneed and I prayed, that’s when you know that I was really terrified.
I became calm, went back to bed. I was now wide awake. The terror might have been for that moment, I listened, and I listened. Then suddenly just when I was about to sleep,
“Be ferocious and ramble on your pain …”
But I wasn’t scared anymore in that moment; I am now trying to figure out what the voice is trying to tell me. Yet the meaning might be very clear for considering the state of my behavior. I slowly, closed my eyes. It was in winter when I felt a cold breeze from the outside coming in and out through the window, as I tried to stay as calm as I could be.
I opened my mouth widely about to talk back to the voice with my eyes closed, listening attentively. A thought crossed my mind in that very moment. I asked myself if I was crazy. I might really be losing it this time. I am not about to talk to the voice. I battled through my own thoughts trying not to reply to the voice.
“Umm… Hey, I…”
My mind froze on its own but I knew I wasn’t going to let this one slide, I had already made up my mind and I wanted to know and ask questions. Even if I was considered crazy, who cared, there’s only one way for me to find out for real if this voice exists. I am all by myself what’s the worst that could happen?
Then there was a complete silence, and I knew that I was crazy. Now I can have a peaceful night and not torture myself up with the unreal. I am there laughing at myself, Now I am even mocking the voice as I was laughing louder and louder.
“Do you have a name, voice?”‘
I laughed some more, at myself not realizing that, that’s just even more craziness. A crazy truck of thoughts ran into my mind, slowly catching a sleep, when suddenly.
“My name is Gloria, Gloria Velsey”
Faded off, although I heard the voice once again and dozed off. Subconsciously the voice was still talking to me, in the morning I woke up and when I did, the first words to speak were,
“Good Morning Gloria…”
Next Chapter: CHAPTER 6: “Death is inevitable but fear is a choice”
- Final CHAPTER 16 “I knew if I had stopped for some time just to take a look in the mirror and give the reflection as much affection as I would to anyone, all would be well”
- CHAPTER 15: “My life began at 13 years, 13th of June 2003, 9:00am.”, “Unrevealed truths”, “and Memories”
- CHAPTER 14: “Until suddenly, there’s silence, and… I pulled that trigger.”
- Chapter 13: “It merely comes from the heart to express the inside of a broken dream, rather a journey pierced with such hatred that in my eye creates a perception of all distraction, when in fact the reality is, It’s all just a misunderstanding.”
- CHAPTER 12: “Challenges and obstacles are to be embraced for the good job they did with me”
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