Almost everyday, after a sleepless night, I go outside for five minutes at 5 am, mostly with the prayer mat and my camera in hand. The cool morning has a therapeutic palpation, it almost soothes my exhausted eyes, the beautiful horizon peeks as if wishing me luck that I'll finally have a perfect day, not good, immaculate, where I won't cry my eyes out digging in the past. Today the grass shines with dew and the youthful foliole sways in the rising sun. It washes the self condemnation of forgiving but not forgetting, the pain of the dreaded storm nearing every second, the agony of the past mistakes, the dejection with which I gave up a million times.
But most of all, it tells me that even though I'm not a good person, someone who doesn't take out their built up pain on others, someone who doesn't stop talking to anyone after they hurt her. someone who doesn't dream of going away, someone who doen't complain, someone who will not tell you what's bothering her and will cry on the smallest thing you say to her and someone who will not make you feel as if you are at a uninvited pity party. I will try again. I will probably fail today, I will lose tomorrow, I'll still have a case of the blues, but down the lane,after many a moon, one day I will. And maybe I'll feel good about myself.
I so needed to write this.