As I walked home today, I looked up. It was one of those rare occasions where the sky really was a clear midnight blue worthy of Mary Poppins. Stars were immediately apparent, their twinkling white brightness was deeply contrasted against the rich and brilliant colour of the heavens. As is customary, I began to wish. As soon as words formed in my head, I had to check myself: I was not sure if I had been wishing for Lol because it was my deepest desire or because it was now a habit. My head was swimming with confusion for a brief moment. Was this moving on? And more importantly, was I ready to try stepping I into a world without the weight of heart break, destruction and general apocalypse on my shoulders? During the last few months, it had almost been easy to get comfortable in the depths of my pit. Too eagerly perhaps, I had set up house, superficially transforming the dark hard concrete into a cosy cocoon whose depths I wondered if I had begun to emerge from. The question was, was I coming out a moth or a butterfly? And even if I came out a butterfly, what good was that if I tried to fly with my broken wings?
No comments:
Post a Comment