Seasons

"I hate how I want to be strong but I am told over and over that I am not perfect; I hate how I want to stand tall yet I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and the most of all, I hate how I know I can tap upon a universe of energy yet it peters out into a tiny twitch when I move."

"I hate how my body is finite and how my heart is easily shaken. My legs are akin to pillars of stone, strong,sturdy and meant to withstand the test of time but without constant repairs, rain and shine wear me away quickly and coldly as if the stone never stood at all. My arms are akin to planks of wood. Flexible to build strong houses and create warm homes yet algae and age eat away at them ferociously. My body is akin to the long gone untouched temple walls. Beautiful and majestic, yet defaced by the same race that built them."

"My heart, the most fickle of all. It is just like the seasons. Sometimes I fall, Sometimes I walk with a spring in my step, sometimes I live with the fire of summer and sometimes I weep of the bitter winters. And only in my seasons I see,that I do not see in anywhere else is that in summer, it burns brightly enough to set everything ablaze and in winters, the world freezes over and not a single being lives. Only in my seasons, I see the honey sweet love in the spring of my steps and the coffee bitter heartbreak when things fall apart. Only in my heart do I wish everyday for milder seasons."

"Yet with all this, I do not regret living. I do not regret getting burned by my own flames or getting frostbitten by my own cold. I do not regret that my limbs and body wear away over time. For I am fortunate enough to have life breathed into me and I will change, the stone pillars will breath anew and the wooden planks will grow branches. For as long as I still breath I will not just exist. I will breathe. I will fight. Change. Renew. Live."

It's been 3 months since I had felt the urge to need to write again. This is the easiest way for me to write out my feelings. I do not understand them as of now but as metaphorically as I can, I have translated it. I am tired and demoralized but I will pick myself up again by daybreak. and again. and again.