I can only go so far in letting people know what I feel, what I’m dealing with. Someone even told me I’m jealous with my private things, he said! (Well, of course they’re private!) Sensitive, careful, dreadful, painful –our senses can go oh, so far. And our wills can stand strong oh, so long. And the pain man can hold (ay, if any) can be oh, so much.
I apologize; I feel in a zone of discomfort here. My body lashes out in anger; it starts to feel the burden of my shame. As long as I hide it, my soul flakes out in despair, and my spirit abhors me. Goosebumps cover all corners of my skin, and my teeth to lose its ever-glowing white –if they were ever-glowing white- and start to turn yellow. Food loses its flavor, my palate diminishes: dirt is tastier than beef. Nails untrimmed, lazy eyes, boils on my head, can’t pee well… Life is finally giving me the “POW! POW!” I deserved.
But why am I talking like I’ve been defeated? Why don’t I talk like I’m a winner? I know where to go and get out of this mess. I just have to walk to that lowest place in the valley…WHAT!?!?
But I’m so comfortable here, up top, in the palace. I’m the one that’s in charge around here! I’m the one that has to demand people to be accountable! I’m the one that can ask someone to turn a piece of dreck-man into a lean, mean, killing machine! NO ONE can do that up in this join-but then, God don’t like ugly, eh?
I’m the one that has to lay myself low, in the ground of the valley… I’m the one that has to let someone else take charge… I’m the one that has to be accountable to somebody else… I’m the one that needs to be turned from a piece of dreck-man into a lean, mean, killing machine! Me, the king… I’ll die, at least my son will become heir –God don’t like ugly, but at least He loves me-and I’m ugly…
And then I walk to the ground of the valley: where my pride lays low, my prejudice is gone, my fear is squished, and my peace is restored. I have stripped myself of the weight of that gold and silver, of pomp and circumstance; not that I’m gonna be abdicating sooner or later. All I see in that ground is fire –and fire I need, to roast myself into a new guy.
Will the world know what just happened? I don’t know, nor is it my place to know. There are things that I should keep to myself, eh, but not this one: and yet, when is the perfect time to let the world know?