waking
Tired he was and he began to wish that he had been made to be more humble. Maybe then, he'd be content with his lot. Maybe then, he wouldn't have had to live his life like an uphill struggle, fighting hard to bring his life and situation to a grander and better place.
He brought his hand up to his face, and the contact of the dry skin of his palm against his face surprised him. The months of tough living had ploughed out more lines on his palm than the previous 18 years of his life had. But what bothered him most wasn't physical change. His life has changed, and as he feared, for the worse.
Once he had lived with a belief that the world could become better, that the Someone in charge would never let things go out of control. But now he reckoned that the force of the human race's daily effort to pry back control of their world had more powers than he thought. Once he believed that he could stay under an umbrella and the shrapnels of a falling creation would not hurt him. But now he realized that there was no such umbrella, and hurt will not steer clear of you if you just steer clear of it. But most often, hurt comes from inside, hurt comes from loving something too much.
And what troubled him most was the speed he was falling at. He had once been making the right decisions, doing the right things and been quite an exemplary figure. But today, it wasn't so. He's falling so fast, and others are rising so fast that those whom he had seen no value in to learn from now command great respect from him, because of their steadfastness to God and their willingness to let their lives be laid out as it is. He felt like a worm most of these days, only seeking to feed his own hunger and desires.
Slowly, his mind flooded with the worries of the day. He knows that today, like any other day, he'd be physically pushed to his limit, or sometimes even beyond. He knows his hearing might be in danger if the flu he had from yesterday had blocked up his ears. But what he was worrying about most was whether he'd be happy today, or would it be like most of the days that had gone by, a weary drag from sunrise till sunset, with no purpose or belief in anything. He certainly hadn't thought that his life could come to this one day. And he most certainly didn't want it this way.
But he could wait no longer. As lost as he was, he had to get the day started. Breaking all the binds of reluctance, he hauled himself off the bed.
And so passed the first minute of his day.
He brought his hand up to his face, and the contact of the dry skin of his palm against his face surprised him. The months of tough living had ploughed out more lines on his palm than the previous 18 years of his life had. But what bothered him most wasn't physical change. His life has changed, and as he feared, for the worse.
Once he had lived with a belief that the world could become better, that the Someone in charge would never let things go out of control. But now he reckoned that the force of the human race's daily effort to pry back control of their world had more powers than he thought. Once he believed that he could stay under an umbrella and the shrapnels of a falling creation would not hurt him. But now he realized that there was no such umbrella, and hurt will not steer clear of you if you just steer clear of it. But most often, hurt comes from inside, hurt comes from loving something too much.
And what troubled him most was the speed he was falling at. He had once been making the right decisions, doing the right things and been quite an exemplary figure. But today, it wasn't so. He's falling so fast, and others are rising so fast that those whom he had seen no value in to learn from now command great respect from him, because of their steadfastness to God and their willingness to let their lives be laid out as it is. He felt like a worm most of these days, only seeking to feed his own hunger and desires.
Slowly, his mind flooded with the worries of the day. He knows that today, like any other day, he'd be physically pushed to his limit, or sometimes even beyond. He knows his hearing might be in danger if the flu he had from yesterday had blocked up his ears. But what he was worrying about most was whether he'd be happy today, or would it be like most of the days that had gone by, a weary drag from sunrise till sunset, with no purpose or belief in anything. He certainly hadn't thought that his life could come to this one day. And he most certainly didn't want it this way.
But he could wait no longer. As lost as he was, he had to get the day started. Breaking all the binds of reluctance, he hauled himself off the bed.
And so passed the first minute of his day.
posted by ko0n at
9:05 PM
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