Tuesday, February 11, 2014


The air was free back then. Laboured, but free. So was the sunlight. The very dancing beams that stand rationed now, I blotted with a thick curtain of make-believe despair. A grey castle I had constructed from the debris of things I thought were broken. There I surrendered myself as prisoner. There I flogged myself, believing I was unworthy. Believing I was cursed.  I thought that was the passage of hell. I thought that was the night that swallowed the sun for good. I was so wrong.
Hope came at a reasonable price. I could have traded my wounded pride for some hope. But I was too miserly to part with my plastic convictions. My fool's gold, that I treasured as a former world champion treasures his medals. My testament, my walk down the vale of thorns. What I thought was sacred, was a masterpiece of pure idiocy.
I thought that was suffering. I believed that was the truest cup of pain. I thought that was the death of laughter. I thought I was a Martyr. While all I was, in truth was stupid.
I now know that this is pain. I now know that this is the deepest end of fear. I now know there is no shadow thicker and darker and more impenetrable than this. I now know that every other tribulation bends a meek knee and folds its hand into a respectful salute in its presence. I now know that this is misery's unmerciful whip. I now know this is the definition of fear. Death's breath, hot on our cheeks. Praying for a brighter day and yet, afraid of the dawn - cowering from what it might bring. I now know that this suffering has no equal. Cancer laying claim on a precious one. Taking them away without your permission. While the angels stand beside you as you protest, rage, fight, claw, crawl, beg, bleed, bargain away your sleep, your dreams, your soul and you sanity - just to have something you always took for granted. More time.

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