These lines make me nervous. I love lines otherwise, lines that run through pages, lines that unmask people, lines that make up stories, lines that can be spoken, lines with words on them. But this is a queue. And I’m not fond of lines that are made up of people. It makes me anxious, like I’m doing something wrong.
What is worse is perhaps not the number of people in front, but rather the ones after me. They are not many, I’m almost at the end. It would be over, only when its over. We’re moving at the exact opposite of what might be the speed of light. Why are there so many people here? Why am I here in particular? I don’t seem to find the answers. My only source of entertainment here is to imagine, turn these people into characters. Turn myself into one. Nobody seems to know where this is heading.
There’s a couple in front of me, one offering the other to stand in their place. Rather sweet. But I wonder do they know I’m here right at their back writing about them in words they would probably never recognize or come across.
The sun is generous today, warm and stark. But the wind blows. Faces of confusion everywhere. Why is it that they do not know. What is it that I do not as well. People have stories of letters everywhere. I’ve been standing here for hours now. I’m small and petite so I can slip in between without getting my hands or legs stuck.
After a few hours, the chaos becomes a part of me. I begin to enjoy it in a very odd way. The people become a little familiar. Maybe they are not strangers anymore. After all even families are strangers that decided to stick together for a long period of time. Lovers. Friends. The universe. All of them strangers who decided to stay a little longer.
Perhaps this line too, a preplanned, preconceived act of destiny or of choice. Let’s find out, shall we?
There’s a battle, an unknown
untold one. One that is
filled without the vision of
what meets the eye.
One that is considered unlikely
for the knight to fight.
One that dishonors souls,
because the knight should
And this is a tiny battle,
they tell her.
But battles are
all the same,
battles inside, battles outside,
they make you bleed
time and again,
some clear, some in color.
And sometimes one is
won when another is gone,
one is lost and still victorious.
Some ask to stay put,
because the time to wield
the sword is gone.
just the shield,
with is pride,
false or real, hard to tell.
Where shall we hide?
Or shall we fight?
Introverts are withdrawn because they are internal. They are reserved because they are pensive. They are quiet because they are listening. This is why they are artists and writers, creators and inventors. ~ Lauren Martin, Elite Daily
I have always believed that the personality that defines us is like the skin we have; we can’t really change it (since we are not snakes, who are often believed to have an extra pair of skin in their closet!), but what we can do is choose the type of dress, colour and style that brings out the best in us or say try behaviors and patterns that fulfill and enhance our personalities including social and private life.
Enhance and control is the word, much more than change.
What are your thoughts on this? Do let me know in the comments!