There is this story I have never told anyone. I have kept it to myself because I can. It’s not a horrible story. It’s quite beautiful. But sometimes, when I am about to say it aloud, I wonder will it lose its magic if I let you tear it apart. You see, I’m not quite sure if it happened. And you would convince me it was just my neurons playing tricks on me, as you do with everything else. Render my being to the chemical reactions, and all I want is to be more than my hormones and DNA.
You rather be just that. I sometimes wonder why? Is it the fact you need an excuse to be just what you are and not be anything else? Whatever the reason is, I don’t believe in magic as you sometimes accuse me of. I believe in the complexity. The thought we are the sum of our parts, and we can change. How can I speak to you when you see everything as a statistical function while entertaining the notion you somehow pulse differently, setting you apart? And I wonder if I’m deeply sad because of that. That we two never can meat. The silence is killing me.
Maybe it is I who judge you too harshly? But could you believe in the magic of the nuanced universe which doesn’t have to be rigid or render you to be the program of someone else’s design? As I think, you have changed one religion to another while you accuse others of believing. See what I have done? I speak with your mouth and keep the story which happened under the sea all to myself because I fear your words and judgment. I portray my expectations, not letting you or the universe unravel. I seek control.
So here is my story. It happened under the sea when the colors were just right. Light blue nearer to the surface and darker towards the bottom. There was a shipwreck. Been there longer than I have ever existed. There was I, feeling weightless in the silence with my veins rushing under my skins.
That was it.
And now you wonder, why would I guard such a story. But you see, it makes me exist, and if you render it to malfunction of the program, then what I am? I just gained consciousness, and I chose to keep it when I sit still on the floor and look at the emptiness.
Thank you for reading, have a peaceful day ❤
© K.A. Ashcomb