It's like.a festering thorn. The kind that when you try and dig it out all you are doing is helping it push deeper and deeper into your being. Until all of a sudden you realize you have become used to the pain and you accept as simply a part of you. And when it has fully assimilated into the deepness of yourself, you realize you are doomed to experience the pain...always. I can't escape the dull familiarity of who I am, and what is bound to unfold. I am like a careless yawn, faintly recognized, perhaps slightly necessary, but fleeting and forgettable. It's harder when you begin to see or at least think you see the dull return of the pain. It's even harder when you stand to lose so much, only to realize you are the loser, the other is the winner. And in the back of your head you always will hear, "it's because of who you are...you pathetic little yawn."
STW
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Who We Are
- Stanley T. Wiser, Theodore Dark
- We are outcasts that you probably walk by without a second glance. We think, write, and create. We look at the world as intellects, and hope that after reading what we have to say, you may too.
1 comment:
This could not be further from the truth. If anything, I might compare you to a daffodil--the march flower. After a long brutal, dull and chilly winter, the daffodils are the first signs of color and life you see dotting the hills and roadsides. They don't yell or boast or dramatically call attention to themselves, but the beautiful, yet quiet difference they cause in the landscape catches the eye of passers bye. They are recognized as something special because they are so drastically yet humbly different from everything else around them drained of life. They bring a smile to your lips and hope into your heart because people really wish they could find more things like them. They are a wild flower though, and sometimes difficult to come by unless you seek them out faithfully. :)
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