She says she’s the type who wouldn’t even know she was drowning, and even if she did, wouldn’t know if it was right to scream out for help.
Prisoners. Chained to the walls we build around ourselves, some are illusory, others are tangible, geographical, mental and of course, emotional. Goku, (my pet kitten) looked pretty startled today when he saw me open the door to my veranda, gawking at the outside world like it’s not even supposed to be there. He hasn’t known much life outside the five rooms of the house that he takes turns to sleep in, sure, he’s spent time ogling at birds behind windows, but he doesn’t know much about chasing them, the feel of grass under his paws. We confine ourselves to only that what we’re familiar with, and complain about the lack of life in our lives. We settle, for what we have, even though the prospect of what we could have is attainable, but the work to take us from point A to point B seems like a burden best to start on a tomorrow that never comes. So used to feeling what we’re feeling that we sway away the promise of something new, something better. And time, it flies, it’s foolish to think that it’ll hang around waiting for you to get your shit together, time will fly and you’ll stay the same. Life will pass and you will wonder where it went, cursing the person you were in the past, how they could care so little about the future you. We expel so much energy on the trivial things, that there’s nothing left to harness into growing. Everything changes, change with the course of time, or risk being the same and living in a world that continues to increasingly seem alien to you.
“How did I get here?”, He thought to himself as he looked into the eyes of a stranger in the mirror.