22 Cards to Life

22 Cards to Life     

The Fool: Full of a sense of adventure, I walked away from everything I had known, not realizing that I had neglected the ones I cared about, or that I had been foolish. I, the Fool, have lived up to my name.

The Magician: Skill, determination, confidence, I bear all of these�" until the night comes. Then, I am weak. Confused. In the daylight, when all see me, I am respected, wanted, needed. But at the end of the day when all of the doors are closed, I do not respect myself.

The High Priestess: Inside of myself, I hold wisdom, knowledge, enlightenment. But my insides are like that of a glass vase. You put too much pressure on it, and it begins to crack. Crack! I’m ignorant. Crack! I’m shallow. Crack! I’m conceited. Then, when I finally become used to the cracks, there is one last crack, and then I am shattered.

The Empress: The harp’s soothing harmony plays in the background as I paint. It plays as I eat, bathe, rest, create. It is only in the moments when the harp stops that anxiety creeps up on me, releasing all of the hellish emotions held at bay by the sweet strums. Afraid, I retreat into myself, to the place where the harp still plays.

The Emperor: I stand watch at your door when you are helpless, protecting you. But I am temporary, for when my shift is up, I leave you open to harm. Being protected half of the time, and being ineffective for the other half is better than not protecting you at all, right? Or do I damage you, showing you protection and stability, then ripping it away?

The Hierophant: Marriage, the ultimate social tie; my tie to him. Alliance and convention hold me to him, yet no one can know how I sneak away. How, away from society’s harsh lights, I renounce him, defy him, betray him. And I pity the soul who learns my secret and threatens to tell, for then they too would learn my power�" and I would end the problem, no mercy.

The Lovers: Heated moments canceled by cold ones. Harsh words erased by gentle touches. In the end, she still will love, she still will love, and he will hope the latter is stronger.

The Chariot: Ride at own risk. That’s what a sign about me would say; I’m determined ‘til I snap, strong ‘til I break, dead-set ‘til I change my mind. Never trust someone pulled by something that they cannot control. My sign would say that too.

Strength: Soft, subtle tones are all I need to bend them to what I want. Though they sacrifice what they want for what I want, they never have anger towards me, for I make them want to give me their will. I need them to trust me, to be unwavering in their trust to me, because I know cannot trust myself

The Hermit: Do you think I am intimidated by your smarts? Because you can’t match me. I stay hidden not because I am unfit, but because you are unfit for me. And you always will be, because just when you begin to make advancements, I will tear you down again.

Wheel of Fortune: Try to tie me down and I will resist (but love every second of it.) Tell me I need change, and I will fight you to stay the same (when really, that change sounds delicious.) Tell me you love me. (I will deny it.)

Justice: She tries to balance herself, but the weights are never equal when the punishments she must dish out match the crime; the punishments must change. Petty thieves? Burned to death. Murderers? Burned to death. The severity is undeniable, but at long last, her scales have been balanced. She does not yet know that the balance weighs good and evil. She does not yet know that by forcing them to be equal; she leaves the door open to much bigger, darker things.

The Hanged Man: “If I really had to, I could pretend to be you, if you had to die. I mean, I’d totally prefer if you didn’t, because it’d probably hurt to die…I really hope not. You shouldn’t have to go through it though…that would hurt me too much. So maybe I could just be your Sydney Carton? That is, if I don’t die of fright before the guillotine crashes down.”

Death: It’s dark in here. I just wanted to be a butterfly, was that too much to ask? You took my life, my friends, and then when it’s time to pass my soul on, you put me in this black hole of a “temporary sleeping place?” I just wanted to be a damn butterfly. Was it really that hard for you? B*****d.

Temperance: You can sit anywhere, go ahead. I promise�"I’m just being generous … No, no, it’s my pleasure. You’re in this room just as well as I am, you might as well sit down too. Oh no, please don’�"…you put a fingerprint on my glass table. You put…a fingerprint…on my glass…table. Don’t touch my glass table. You hear me?

The Devil: You know, baby, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s with those horn-things you wear? It’s not that I mind them or anything, I was just wondering… No, I do not. I don’t have those�" damn, I guess I do. Well, anyway, I was wondering if maybe I could take a vacation. I love you and all, it’s just…hot here. And dark. I’d like to see the light… What do you mean I can’t see the light? Is it the horns? ‘Cuz you can cut ‘em off. I promise, I don’t mind much.

The Tower: Too many days I’ve spent imprisoned here, in this circle of stone, but my friends remember me, and they will get me out. Even if it means tearing this city, and the tower with it�"to the ground. It will be suck a lovely sight, the city burning far beneath me.

 

The Star: Shining from the top, with not a cloud in the sky, I twinkle. Even when the clouds block views of me, I twinkle brighter still, trying to catch someone’s eye through the elusive clouds. The sky grows dimmer then, and I will myself to be that new shooting star, to propel myself forward…nothing happens. My closest friend shoots forwards, laughing her goodbyes as she trails away. Who will I lose to the ranks of the shooting stars next? Take me already.

The Moon: Beauty cloaks me as I light the water with a cool, refreshing light, and a rejuvenating breeze. I am cloaked as I rise, and I am cloaked as I fall. When will you realize that what you see in front of the cloak isn’t me at all?

The Sun: Even the brightest of them all runs out of energy sometimes. I get weak, and allow the clouds to pass between me, and the Earth. Slowly, I return. Why have they not cast me out in return for something better? Don’t they see that I’ve failed them?

Judgment: You tell me to kneel in front of you, my forehead on the ground. I follow your command, keeping my hands below my chin. You begin to pray over me, and as my last act of resistance, I pull three of my fingers back, flipping you off. You’d never suspect that your “newly saved” really isn’t saved at all.

The World: I’m a cup that you can never fill. Oh, you can try. Sorry, but I won’t fall for it. I’ve got a straw in the top of me, and just when you think I’m finally getting full, someone comes along and takes a sip of me. So don’t try it; I’ll never be fully satisfied.

Reviews

[Bluefire]

If these were poker playing cards, I would say that life was unpredictable as a game of poker. But I see, that's not the case you're trying to go by. I assume these are tarot cards?
Anywho!
I don't really care what kind of cards they are. The amazing thing is that you explained yourself and your life fluently through these little cardboard pictures with so much meaning.
Well done. ^^