A leap of faith
Or Hobson’s choice
Trickle of self confidence
Or I could be ignorant
—————————-
Uncalculated move
In a familiar territory
Unfamiliar motions
Now shape my future
———————–
The decision is made
Flight is inevitable
It is quite possible
I might crash and burn
———————-
Clueless, yet firm
Learning the ropes
Scared, excited, half wit
Time will tell me which
Sometimes we forget how strong we are. Sometimes our own strength overpowers us. This strength is not innate; it’s cultivated, fought against and eventually accepted. It is the kind of strength that comes from living life.
It is born through mistakes, betrayals and losses. Nurtured by countless sleepless nights and unending questions. Supported by familiar and new faces. Confused by the sudden visceral cry that wakes you in the middle of the night. Comforted by virtual lives of characters exploring similar emotions.
Strength is not a virtue; it’s not something to be proud of. It’s a war scar. It meant dealing with a situation you wish never existed. It’s a war you wish never happened. It meant you wanted something from this world, you fought for it and you lost.
Strength is the mask of the underdog. We put it on, and pretend how beautifully we have dealt with the issue at hand. Secretly wishing, we never had to in the first place.
Strength is essentially our consolation prize. In the game of life.
