I wrote this in November when I had first done Naimoramo or something like that. But today it really kinda hit home today. So I thought I would show you a part of it that almost didn't make it in at all because I thought it was too much of my soul. But at this point, why not? So here it is, enjoy.
I am the opposite:
I never
was the same as my brother and sister but then again they both came from
different fathers you’d never expect it when we got together but when we were a
part we were all night and day from one another. My brother was a stocky man
with a cocked smile honey brown eyes with freckles and a bad attitude. My
sister through a boxers build mangled to be sexy and not just sexy she was
gantas sexy. Which meant she held herself with a sense of danger from both this
world and the next.
She was
a character my sister. She was dangerous in every way a person could be but
that was our life. She continued to be
that way even when life let her have a way out. I never wanted to be a part of
the danger that surrounded our family but I could always handle it if I needed
it. But she always seemed to need it no
matter where she was. Always needed to have a leg up on the competition and be
the strongest and fastest. I sometimes envied that about her. The strength and
prowess she held within herself.
A confidence that all women wish for but can’t
find that was Rae. She was a force but with all negative energy she suffered
from the back lash. That means she didn’t have the ability to shut any of it
off and that made her not only dangerous unto herself but to others. Especially those she loved.
I
understood her but she didn’t seem to understand herself and that I could
understand up until a point. That breaking point is usually lashing out at me.
At that point I get sick of it and push her away. It wasn’t a habit I regretted
but one I needed until, like her I would lash out at others instead of those
who truly deserved my anger. Everyone
usually looks at me like I’m nuts but I would rather fall on my sword than to
be like her. She has too much darkness inside her. I don’t want to give in,
ever to that type of darkness. I mourn for her soul but most importantly I mourn
for her. I fear that she has lost her self in her own darkness and will never
surface into the wild rose the world wished her to be.
When I was attending ISU I had the most impactful professor
an aspiring writer could ever dream to have. He saw through the bullshit I
slung so eagerly to hid the darkness or as he called the “other.” It made me
wonder what half of the world I stood on. Was I in it, out of it or perhaps the
“other”? Never a part of anything and always outside but connected to
both. Is that the truth? I didn’t have
the darkness mystic of my sister nor the golden halo of my brother.
But he was
not always golden. He, like all of us carried our darkness. But it is a
battlefield of the soul in which god’s war is waged. If not God, whatever you
may believe in. Your soul is there even if you choose not to acknowledge it. I’m
a jaded twenty something with no answers and even more confused than when I was
six years old.
I feel as if I gave in to that darkness we were all born
with, subjected to, I would become the darkness. Is it the fight that makes us
who we are or is it the circumstances along with us that create our being? I didn’t want to know or find out. I just
simply wanted to be left alone. But I am never really left alone. I stand up
when maybe I should just shut up and bear it.
But something inside of me says no, enough, fuck you. I try
my darnest to be normal and stand in line but I can’t. It’s like this switch in
the back of my head that flips and I’m in warrior mode. With my gun in hand and
fire in my eye I hunt down my sense of justice. Okay. Maybe there is no gun but
I tend to charge blindly into battle whether the inner me wants to or not. It’s
like watching an episode of America’s funniest home videos. It’s tragic really.
Like most of my family that off switch is a hell of a bitch and someday I wish
it would just disappear and be a normal.
I wonder if it is like that for other people or if I am
alone. Perhaps, I am just the opposite. I am the other.
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