The radiating light that I pass along to others is a flickering candle that leads others down their own paths.
The fact that I am an eccedentesiast would make others happier than showing emotional nonsense that could only bring one to a bad mood. The option I take is simple, look at the greener side of the valley. I choose to smile. I choose to see a light rather than a shadow, I choose to look at the one butterfly of hope in Pandora’s box. The light that I cherish so dearly is dim, flickering, but it is there.
Fear roots itself in the bottom of my heart. It grips my fragile will with strength, nearly crushing what hope I have. Fear is the hammer that lodges a nail into the already large crack in my heart. What if this rose coloured glass that I try to look through isn’t enough? What if one day, my already minuscule presence will just disappear, swept to the side and lost on a shelf of memories?
Would anyone even remember me?
I sit in my shroud of darkness, contemplating the meaning of my life. My mind rots in its own filth, a pig rolling around in mud. I’m crushed by my own weight. Is my pitiful life worth it? What is the point of living if I can’t even do what I enjoy?
Though, I do not believe in just stopping in my tracks. Just like how I will look for beauty in the most grotesque of beings, I will find a way to overcome my hardships. I will continue not because I want to, but because I have to. I am like a camera set on manual focus, I control my what is most important to me.
The radiating light that I pass along to others perhaps is not even a wax candle, it is an artificial, electric candle. It’s fake, something sculpted for the benefit of others.
When my battery runs out, my light will follow suit.