Thursday, May 7, 2015

This Is Life

Imagine.

You are moving around in a plastic box.

Everything you are is in this box. Your hopes, dreams, fears, secretes. Your loves and hates, your beliefs and  thoughts. The you that is you exists in this box. Outside of it, you are no longer you, you cannot leave the box easily, sometimes you pretend the box is something it isn't to fool others into thinking the same.

Imagine. 

From your box, you can interact with others in their box. Most of the time, the plastic of their box is heavily tinted and it's hard to see in. But the longer you spend getting to know them, the less muffled their voice is, the more clear the plastic becomes. Sometimes there are flashes when you see right through, and it frightens you.

Imagine. 

There's not always enough room for everyone and you are forced in amongst the others, plastic creaking and bending. You worry at such close proximity that you will see into others or they will see into your box. You worry your box might crack. You try to run. Sometimes you are shoved away from a box and you fall and damn it hurts.

Imagine. 

You're pretending your box is green. It changes the tint constantly, confusing others and making it hard for you to see out. It confuses you. You get lost easily and you're never sure exactly what you want. You want to stop pretending but now people think you really are green so you can't change back. It's miserable.

Imagine.

Your friend is in trouble. You are banging desperately on your plastic, trying to get their attention, tell them something. You ignore the cracks the banging makes, you yell louder. Their tint is still the same, you keep repeating your message. They continue to struggle. You can't see them properly but you can't seem to change this and you are panicking.

Imagine. 

You want to break free of your box. Once shattered, you can't put it back together so you always hesitate. In order to stop cracks being seen, you plaster layers of plastic on it. Layer after layer, hiding yourself more each time. It's scary because it's no harder look look out, but others seem to have a hard time looking in.

Imagine.

You meet someone who starts to see through each layer and tint the first time. You don't run. You pause, you let them stand next to you. They understand that there are some cracks that have to be hidden. They understand that just because you have many layers doesn't mean that you don't exist anymore, even if you feel that way.

Imagine. 

This is life.

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Opal lost 2,000 words a few weeks ago, and she hasn't been able to write properly since. This is her first attempt to start writing again. Fingers crossed that writing starts to look up again! 

14 comments:

  1. This is so beautiful and so true. Good luck with your writing!

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  2. oh my word. how can you be so perfect, Opal? i'm still reeling from the awesomeness of this post.

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    1. I'm far from it, but thank you :)

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  3. This is so so so... oh my goodness, the deep meaning is just perfection.

    xoxo Morning

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  4. Imagine...

    ...that this was a really, really powerful post. I loved it, your writing was eloquent and wonderful. :)

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    1. I'm glad you thought so :) Thank you :)

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  5. Wow, really thought-provoking!

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  6. Imagine if I could write so beautifully. I do dabble in prose poetry, but I prefer imagery to raw sentiment. But this is really beautiful and moving! Especially about the cracks, so chilling.

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    1. From what I have seen, your writing is amazing :) Thank you :)

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  7. Ack! I love this post! It's so accurate and deep--and also inspiring. And I'm so sorry you lost 2,000 words. :'( That's like, a writer's nightmare.

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    1. Thank you :)

      I know right :/ I was so close to tears haha.

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