Testament

The matter is beyond all human hopes only marshalling the way for despair. 

God help the woman who has to face her fears for 2 years again. God help the woman who would rather die than do that. God help the woman who has to relive her fearful childhood again. God, help..

And somehow it's doubtful if she could make it past her nineteenth

Plunge

In times..such as this, what can one do but continue to hope in the Lord? It's indescribable the notion of the matter weighing so heavily upon the mind and dare I say, the heart. 

Can't one hope? Is there even something to hold on to? Does it seem like a flailing hand desperately clutching at straws? When fear and desperation claw on one's mind and gnaw at one's heart continuously, is it possible not to falter and give way to distress? Is it not possible that one might not recover from such a fall as this? 

My heart is heavy beyond measure. What will it take for fear to dissipate from my mind?

Occupation of an idle mind

I have been meaning to write this for a long time now. Actually, what am I saying? I have been writing to write so many things for a long time now. Time and laziness just got in the way. But I have been writing, yes, I have. Verse by verse, stanza by stanza. It is almost formless and thoughtless, but the reason it took so long is because I have been contemplating so much about forms and the thoughts in between to make it seem otherwise. So much for writing, I digress.

I am grateful for all the God has given me. As I embark on my last year as a..as a.. well, very young person, I am indebted to God for bringing me this far, and always being with me. There were unpleasant times, and I dare say it is an understatement, where I have been tried and of course, if God hasn't been with me, my physical self can hardly be expected to be typing this, even as it typed on a different keyboard with a trampled spirit. To be fair, it has been good mostly, outwardly at least, so I am thankful. Many, God has sent, as blessings to me, and well, blessings are really...how shall I put it, comforting, to say the least. So it is hard to put it..and it is hard to achieve, but I pray, with the guidance of God, that I could be a blessing to many, even as the young adult age approaches. Of course, I am quite specific. Specificity is necessary when you are striving to achieve something, without saying. But for now, I shall leave it as this. I have not fully developed in thinking and well, there are many factors.

Like, for example, my pituitary gland releasing unnecessary signalling molecules at strange time and in strange amounts it interferes with my rational thinking preventing useful things from happening and triggers useless occupation of the mind with idealism and of the body with luxury like penning the thoughts which relentlessly occupy the mind.

There I have said it. Foolish as it is, it is still happening. And I have been writing, yes, I have. Verse by verse, stanza by stanza. It is almost formless and thoughtless, but the reason it took so long as because I have been contemplating so much about forms and the thoughts in between to make it seem otherwise. So much for writing, I digress, again.

Our paths will cross again

They are like all the others, playful, merry and pure, I watched them as they fought with one another, some trying to intervene, some shouting to stop. I watched the boy from the front row on the second column stood up and lead them in prayer for the end of the day and another boy from the back row on the fifth column do the same, giving thanks for their lunch(whether they had any or not). A lunchbox would feed 5 of them. Their enthusiasm for learning echoed across every "Finished, teacher!" as they raised their tiny hands, impatient for their turn. "Good morning, teacherrrr," was what I looked forward to during those days. It was brief, too brief, in fact. But I am just beginning to learn.

Yet, I could not help but wonder about their future. What will they become? Who will they become? I am very much interested. I want to know. I want to connect. I ..want to help.

They are very young to remember an insignificant girl coming to their class but the eldest was fifteen and I have high hopes. I wouldn't just leave a thread hanging. It would be most careless.

Voices- they are calling.

· · · – – – · · ·

"Don't leave me," pleaded she,

"where shall I go after?"

Nowhere, dearie- 

but what does that matter?

You will never be-

where there is laughter

though quite madly 

you will yearn

Don't leave me, 

I am quite weary

I can hear voices screaming at me

it is a sickening malady

don't leave me behind the metal bars 

in a room with no keys

where there is but a small window

that only seems to fit a grey sky

and sometimes ominously dark

with streaks of bright lights being predecessor 

of deafening roars of thunders.

But the voices remain clear,

So don't leave me

or they will one day drown sanity

It is already very hard to breathe

Air- has the room become smaller? 

I can't move from this corner. 

Where is this musty smell coming from?

The window has moved up too high I can't see anything

just hear the -

it is only my voice.

The rusty bars are a mockery of-

water inside my chest and outside!

don't leave me!

don't leave...

don't..

d-

Fear

Can one face something that so exceedingly shake him? Is it then, stupidity to voluntarily face that which one is so terrified of? I ...I dare say, it is now. Diffidence is a permanent weakness on my part. How is it possible for one to ever actively engage in a discourse with strangers? How is it possible, without..the constant throbbing of the veins, fastened palpitation of the heart and consistent self-demeaning thoughts, occasionally mumbling embarrassing comments that ought to not have been spoken at all?

I..just thought I could face it. I just thought...I will get over it. I just thought..it was a thing of the past. It is not.

I still fear.

I fear for tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after. This week- I wonder if I can make it without filling the nights with tears. I wonder if I can tell myself what they have told me to tell myself last November- "Hey, I am not useless." I doubt it now. The people are different. The atmosphere is different. Everything will be different.

I ...hope it will be over soon.,,
so that I no longer feel intimidated..
so that those tears will no longer grace my eyes.

Why does this happen to me all the time?
..To be so scared of...people.