Permanence

May contain a pinch of trigger.

The steeling you will want is of having things figured out. Being able to answer the question, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” without batting an eyelid, minus the uhms, uhs marked with unnecessary clearing of the throat. And definitely, without lying about it to secure an opportunity to bolster yourself on the front of housing and eating. Add clothing because you need to look as presentable as eyeing an elevation from your role. Career progress. Development. Otherwise, the Employee of the Year certificate with your name and blown up passport photo will do.

The blunts call it getting your shit together. But as day comes turning into weeks and therefore months, nothing about your shit will have changed. Not the colour, not the smell and definitely not the texture from the evidence it leaves down your toilet bowl.

The steeling you will crave is of feeling close to people, your lifemates. You will collect humans in the form of friends, acquaintances, colleagues and lovers upon lovers like shells at the beach. Thank heavens for the gift of family which comes, passed generation to generation without your active contribution.

Unless you are born in those cultures (no pointing of fingers here) that end tracing at a dead grandmother with no signs of a sibling, a cousin, uncle, anyone really.

You will maintain the connections, never wanting them to fade. Watering them with celebrations of important days and the mundane of lifting each other up when the days are overwhelming.

Unless you belong to the generation termed disrespectful for cutting out people disregarding their age, status and all else in between. The main criteria being, “How does this person make me feel? Why am I allowing this person to make me feel this way?”

In the periods of extreme sadness, you will regret the times you were bubbling over everyone’s existence. You will wish the words I am happy never left your within. That those words might have been multiplying inside you, frothing, the bubbles fermenting to form this new dynamic you were mocking in the state.

Why does happiness keep coming, knocking you down to roll together on the grass, if its fleeting? Those who say things from the glass is half-full perspective of life will say, “Life is like a coin. You have to experience the heads and the tails as it spins and spins and spins. Rarely will any one throw produce the same result. You have to pick yourself up and look into the future, every single time.”

You try not to think of the nights you are wide awake in your bed. The comfortable haven meant to engulf you in tenderness at the end of a long day. When morning comes and it is acceptable to leave that bed, you will try to wipe the solemn away. You will fight hard to keep the thoughts of the times you slept like a baby. This is not a punishment for the good person you were. For those good times you fancied. When sleep does come, it is brief, almost feels like you were allowed to simply blink.

Day after day, you will steel yourself to face fellow humans in the different cloaks they serve in your life. It keeps you distracted most of the time. For etiquette dictates you smile with them, laugh at their jokes and be a good sport by throwing one or two of your own occurrences to keep the familiarity brewing.

When the curtains close in, you will be invited to face yourself. To come to terms with who you see yourself as, not as the world pretends to view you. A mirror of reflections into a past. The future is a blur of imagination through the “Where do you see yourself in five years?” fumbling you provided. It is a teary affair at times. It clouds you with a phenomenon beyond general sadness.

The solidification you will get instead, is that of being here. Deceived you own the willpower (you are the most intelligent animal) you don’t minutely possess. For if you try to make an exit and you fail, your fellow man will convict you of your own murder.

In the case you succeed through pills, slicing, hanging or the audience-based throwing self off a rooftop/cliff (hey, this in no way nullifies any other ideas you are churning, wink wink). The One in charge of your overall living and leaving, will hold a grudge until the trumpet blows, after which you will be sentenced to an eternity of burning. Your crime? Taking a life that is yours but does not belong to you.

9 Comments Add yours

  1. vbernadette says:

    “Thank heavens for the gift of family which comes, passed generation to generation without your active contribution.” The tiny details are what draw me in too, Rehema. Beautifully written.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Less, as they say, is more.
      Thank you for reading!

      Like

  2. The level of truth in here… let me just leave it at there.
    Beautifully written!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Joweda says:

    Decent written.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for reading.

      Like

  4. Njaya says:

    Well put.

    Liked by 1 person

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