State of Emergency

-
The sirens bellow in the moonless crevices of your mind and tension ravages. The images of the ones who have scarred you flash wildly like a slideshow, but this one is slow, intentional, piercing, deliberate, a malicious impetus. Something whispers to you and you spin around to lock gazes with the monster. Oh, the way she lurks, the way she creeps. With nowhere to run, you recoil, and the vibrations of your fear reverberate against the rugged walls and ricochet, pounding your gut. 

As the monster ensues, its shape becomes more apparent and you squeal because the features are familiar. Jaw dropping realization leaves you stunned and the sirens bawl with incertitude. This time the flashing carries nausea and you almost gag. You know this monster, she is a reflection of you, but she exists in an altered state of paranoia and with only one mission, to subdue......you.

She arrives with harsh memories that batter you all over, stinging with every blow. Her poking draws your breathing further away and your palpitations expand with intensity. You have found yourself in a state of emergency and now you must choose whether to fight or flee. With no doctor in sight, you are forced to become the cure you seek.............

You must learn to starve that monster, so that she forgets how to feed. Haven't you noticed that every time you face a wall of fear, that is when she appears? Don't you see that the monster is that part of you that the world wants to keep on a leash? Can't you tell that the monster represents all those people who smile at you but tear you to the bone when your back is turned? Isn't it clear that the monster can only live within you for as long as she can chew? Knock down the walls of her home and reclaim it as your own.

In a state of emergency, you should never panic. Stay and fight the monster. She is just an ugly variation of you. Fight! Don't flee.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Story of Many

-
Geneva hastened along the fragmented, concrete path that connected her humble dwelling to the outside world. Though riddled with puddles and cracks that snapped toes, she had memorized every step. Her movements were automatic. She always found it humorous how the craters resembled her own life; the empty spaces and creases were very much like the voids she had been trying to fill ever since she was a child. Yesterday was her last "late warning," so she snapped out of it and hurriedly made her way to catch the early morning bus. On both sides, columns of dingy, rusty galvanize served as fences. "What could they even protect?" thought Geneva, and that gave her a chuckle. Her friend Sharon was already leaning over her veranda to wait for Geneva for the latest neighbourhood gossip. Lord, how could she escape her? "Not today, Sharon, girl I'll miss my bus!" hailed Geneva as politely as she could. Sharon had already given up, had accepted she would never mak...
Read more

Forget Them

-
The quest for closure can sometimes come at a high price. People intentionally hurt us and act like we pulled the knife from their back. Closure sometimes looks like accepting that others do not associate themselves with accountability. Closure can look like understanding that others are more interested in their self- righteousness and false sense of grandiosity than actually building and sustaining meaningful relationships. Closure can look like accepting that some people will never admit they are wrong even if the devil held the meeting with them himself. Closure means choosing you. Choosing you and walking away from what others will never acknowledge. Why don't you acknowledge how amazing you are instead, how freely you love, how slow you judge and how automatically that light inside you shines? Why don't you focus on the glowing parts of you, feast with yourself and break good bread? People eventually tell on themselves, just give them time. Did you take accountability in s...
Read more

Uncanny

-
A big headed, protruding navel, slang talking little boy just popped up in our amidst. All we knew was that he was my uncle's son and a trail of mischief was forever his shadow (inserts chuckle). His name was even stranger.....Jomokenyatah? What on God's green Earth? (inserts chuckle through tears). No formal introduction was necessary,  he just fit right in. We swear, he became our granny's favourite in absolutely no time! Hiding stuff in her blouse to hand to him when she thought we didn't notice, that was a tell all. (inserts chuckle) We remember the days when he ran naked and his mother screamed "Oba,"....... to which there was never a response, just giddy innocence and joy to be part of a clan. More like a brother than a cousin, Jomokenyatah became our own. We all loved him, looked after him, scolded him, hugged him, trailed him and sometimes feared for him. That mischief was otherworldly.  For some time, we did not see him because his passion landed him ...
Read more