Patient Persistence

October 7, 2006

     I do believe they think me close to suicide. I hear it in the tone of the whispers they produce when I turn my back. Do they think me a fool? I've always known that I am different from the others. I used to ask them why, but I'd always get a troubled "I don't know", so eventually I stopped questioning my parents and instead turned the interrogation inward. I feel imprisoned in their ignorant company. Why is it that I've learned and retained the information that was offered to us all? Why is it that I'm the only one who sees the beauty of solitude and the spirit in the world around us?

     A man is packing his car a few parking spaces away from the car in which I have hidden away. I envy him. Soon he will make his escape from this place and I will be left in misery- waiting. I can feel the chill of October rain seeping into my pores and damp hair. Perhaps I'll get sick- a blessing that I can use as an excuse not to partake in their four-meal-a-day gluttony. Their way of life is bringing me to my death. It suffocates the person inside of me that is yearning to get out.

     Their life is work- both inside and out of this hellish hotel that we call home. Their vacation is a few hours of television everyday. It is their twisted school on a screen where what they learn can be categorized as fiction and lies at best. They give themselves no time to ponder the true meaning of life nor of why we exist at all, yet they criticize me for not being a Christian when in reality, they have no religion. They simply claim to be what their parents were and wanted them to imitate. Their worship comes in the form of "Thank God the b*****d's dead" or "God damn it to hell."

     Escape! Spirit, run away! Hide! Forbid yourself to succumb to what they have become. They will never accept the person that I wish to be. There will always be a shadow over me named after them, but my inner light will shine through it and others will respect my patient persistence.

     I know that life is a journey. Sometimes you can see what lies ahead, and sometimes there are trees that block the view. Even so, the obstacles scattered along the path can provide a beautiful distraction. I know that my pessimistic optimism is a far cry from rationality, but I've still found myself capable of making sense of things even if through metaphors, riddles, and oxymorons. I see the world through a unique spectacle, but at least I see the world. That is more than I can say for the people who call me strange.

Reviews

[laceyjane23]

i really like this story, especially the end line "i see the world through a unique spectacle, but at least i see the world" i found beauty in that line, keep on writing!
laceyjane