Monday 8 August 2011

Not being me, is not easy for me

Time, apparently, is the best healer. not because it heals, but because, it gives enough time for an individual to learn to control the pain of a wound. As I write this post, I recall yet another dream that I had. Dreams, somehow, have always managed me, to fill with hope, courage, a never ending thirst to achieve what I dream about, in ways that I would not be able to fathom otherwise.

My eyes were closed. I was not wearing any shirt. I could hear the gushing sound of the wind in my ears. Randomly blowing wind. It had its own rhythm. I was facing towards the sky. with my eyes closed, I felt the sun rays hitting my face. I could sense the brightness in my eyes. The tinge of red, combined with that or yellow and orange, mixed with the feel that wind brought in me. It was different.

I was there. Standing. All alone. I begin to open my eyes. Slowly. As slowly as I could. With every passing moment of me opening my eyes, I began to see where I was. Hill? No, I do not think so. Mountain? I do not think so either. What was it that I was standing on? As I begin to ask, I find no answers, and yet, I manage to notice that the place where I stood was above everything that surrounded me. I could view it all. The wind began to blow again. And this time around, I stretch my arms, an attempt to hug the wind.

As I stood there, on topmost point of it all, from where I could see it all, I noticed that my body had several tattoos. First reaction was that of a surprise. Last I remembered, I had only one tattoo. But now, I saw so many. As I try to take a closer look, I noticed that all those that appeared to be tattoos, were actually my past wounds. My wounds, became my scars, which appeared like tattoos, a mark that I would now carry all my life, till death do us apart.

Not being me, is not easy for me and hence I could not let myself stop from thinking about each of those. I stood there, looking at all of them. One by one. Some of them reminded me of battles I had fought with myself, struggles I went through. Those moments, trials and tribulations as they say, moments that made me stronger every passing day. As I continued seeing them, they reminded me of all the painful days that I had lived, all the hard efforts that I had put in, all those that went out without the reward anywhere in the sight. All those moments, flashed right in front of me, and as much strong as I had become over time, I realized tears were out. With my right thumb, I wipe them out. I look at the sky, clench my fists, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and breathe out opening my eyes.

I now began to look at some of the wounds, those that were a result of a much fiercer battle in life, the ones that resulted in victories. As I began to think of these, there was some sort of determination building up in face, some kind of strength building within me, a motivation may be, perhaps, positive energy. Several thoughts started coming to my mind.

As much as distance, though of few hundreds of miles, makes me live a life several lives away, I realize that time indeed has made me stronger. I correct saying it, time did not heal anything. it just had made me stronger. Standing there, I said unto myself, "Whatever happens, I aint gonna give up, because not being me, is definitely not easy for me".