Alive
By Zachary Cuddy
I’m a labyrinth of contradictions. A maze of inaccuracies and failed attempts and yet I remain alive. I challenge my nightmares and dare them to face me in the light of day. I hold every key to my freedoms and successes and yet bestow a whip to creatures so that they may punish me if I misbehave. I tremble at the very thought. How cruel can my constructs be?
Render me paralysed. Nailed and bound under a heavy quilt, shaken with fear. My eyes, sewn shut and bloodshot from tears. Rocked by the very turbulence of my own doing. Simply by fulfilling a prophecy. One not of my own makeup, but of a greater power. A power so big, I mustn’t bear witness to its boudoir, for it would mean the forfeit of my own life. But I can’t go yet. I can’t know such secrets because I’ve won.
Haven’t you heard?
I remain an indistinguishable player in the game of life. Fuelled by promises and the sheer chance that my body bares consciousness. I am victorious. I get to live, so I can wake up. I can remove the quilt and soothe my wounds. I can kiss my skin and tend to the cuts left from the night before. Because tomorrow has been promised to me.
But how can you know me? Are words enough? Can words validate my life to you? Are you even convinced? Or not quite yet… I’m afraid that’s for you to decide. Such revelations can’t be uncovered by simple thought or reading. They must be lived. I might suggest some meditation or even a drug. Used safely and around the comfort of sisters. Loving, singing sisters. Who bears a striking resemblance to both you and the millions of faces that came before any of us.
But my thoughts have overstayed their welcome in your eyes. May they belong strictly to paper, and not ask for further questioning. But be merry my friend for this isn’t the end and hasn’t been the beginning. Nothing ever started, nothing ever finished.
We just get to live.
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