Saturday, May 12, 2007

I Didn't Wear my Watch Today...

This entry is more of a story... A story of my liberation from the only world that I've known, to the world that I have refused to know. The world that i've denied being a part of for the past 15 years. In order for me to reach the end, for this story to come to make sense, I have to take you back to the beginning, to the night the pain started... to the night the end of the pain began...

The time is well past the bewitching hour, I'm in the prime of the devil's work hours, up, sweaty, nervous, being blinded by the gamma-riddled beams of light of intimidation straming out of my text book. Occasional glances up at the computer screen calling me from it's den on the other end of the length of my dining room table revealed the obvious, that I would be much happier doing what I do best. I couldn't then, for I was a slave, a slave to the very thing that made me into the respectful individual that I am today. Sleep clawed away at the pillars of awareness that kept my eyes open until they, the pillars, eventually collapsed and I gave in to the ghastly temptation.

Rest was intended to go on for an hour, but instead, it went on for a vengeful eternity; an eternity that went past my scheduled awakening time yet contradicted it's own nature solely to conveniently come to an end just as soon as the sands of time I stole from the riverside of opportunity slipped through my fingers and into the pit of regret. I awoke, dazed, panicked. I stumbled my way to the dining room table like a new born foal, to resume battle with the monster that cracked my shield of my faith and with it, took my sword of hope as it continued along its path along the avenue of my frustration.

Too late to learn, I faced my fate, its light so dim that one can hardly see the future. Examination time was close at hand and all that was left to do was stare down into the eyes of the beast that will destroy me and let him work his worst.


The exam was over, my script resembled my life - important questions being asked with no relevant or real answer to suffice. I left before most of my friends finished, the flames of their pity would burn like thermite, not even the titanium defenses of my mental security could withstand.

On leaving the school's compound, I began a journey that would only lead to the ends of my slavery's outstreched grasp. The ground was hot, the sun scorched me from above, as I walked in a blizzard of the industrial dusts and sands. My destination was a local food place whose value was relentlessly unappreciated during the usual lime with friends, or the unexpected visit during a case of the munchies. Today however, things were different. A strange light of releif resonated from its exterior.


With my nourishment in hand, I made my way to fetch a taxi to my next destination.


I stopped off at my childhood neighborhood - the place looked so clean. As I walked up the street to my father's house, I glanced at my wrist to get the time and low and behold my watch wasn't there. I felt a weight being lifted off my psychi as I came to terms witht the fact that I was no longer a slave to commitment - my failed exam, the consequences of my failure no longer mattered, I felt free, untouchable... alive. No longer was I snapped to the grid of conformity, I was finally liberated from the one-track lifestyle that I have lived for so many years. School was becoming a burden, far too great for even me to bear and a long well-deserved rest was what I needed for so long. The watch that I wore on my left wrist was the tie that bound me to the system that evicerated my mental stablity - slowly but surely. That watch was not present, no, not this day; for all I saw when I glanced down at my wrist was the tan line that preceeded my carpal tunnel syndrome riddled wrist.

With this feeling of freedom came visibility, my line of sight leapt great bounds beyond my high walls of commitment and frustration and I was able to see the world in all its glory. I had noticed it before, but this time, my opinions, my awe and my mind's arms, forever yearning to touch it's beauty, all danced in unison.

I made my way up the street to my father's house - nobody was home. I opened the gate, it's rusty creaking disturbed the tranquility of my childhood home. I sat in the gallery to begin to eat my lunch, just then the beauty of my surroundings hit me again, like a heavy piece of masonry falling from the pinnacle of a high-rise building - the neighbourhood was sickeningly pretty, tranquil, birds chirping, plants dancing in the sunshine as the wind kised their leaves, the sound of children hard at work at the school just a stone's throw away, the collective sound of each household's ambience was a song, soothing, perfect yet never heard. I sat in my father's gallery chair with my foot resting on the banister. I plugged my headphones into my ear, my own personal stopcork to stop the world's insanity from flooding my mind. I scrolled to my playlist on my iPod that contained 12 short clips of some of Sam Lake's work. I listened to it and let it cleanse my mind while letting my spirit run free. In doing so, I was reborn a free man.

I take no pride in my failure, my crime, what I had done, and I wish I hadn't. It lies there, a hungry pit behind me that will keep gnashing and snapping its teeth in the depths of my mind. It will stay there as I dangle the one thing it craves - my peace of mind - in front of it, until I am rested enough to resume battle; pick up my shield and armor, sword and helmet, and face it down once more.
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