Holidays Daunt Me

Days blurred into one, I feel as if it's a perpetual motion, my current life, no intentions for my days, pointless, unstructured living. How do I get back to the other side? I don't even remember what it was like, to not be clinging to everything, not able to focus, my eyes averting attention, my actions preceding my thoughts. How do the days go by so quickly? I feel like if I keep going on like this, I'll die without really knowing what life was like. I don't want to be looking down from the sky, watching everyone else experience these things, these wonderful things that I can't even pay attention to. Mum will come home, disappointed again that I didn't finish the work. I tell her that I'm trying and she nods, tells me,

"You've already used that excuse before".

We went on a hike in the mountains, the clean, fresh air filling my lungs for the first time in weeks. Is it this hard to be productive? I was so bored at home, I used to go out into the backyard and explore the garden, shrinking down, down, down until I was with the ants and the beetles, climbing up the leaves, swivelling my way through the greenery, hopping on the rows of pebbles. Why am I so unmotivated? I collapsed onto the lush layer of grass, and whispered , "Loneliness can only supply you for so long".

I led the way through the path, my family behind me. Briskly walking through the track, letting the overgrown plants hanging from the sides of the trail, I became comfortable with every little piece of what nature had to offer, for the world was not made for us to just sit and watch. We stopped by a babbling brook, mossy stepping stones, little tadpoles squirming about. I reached out and felt the cool water run between my fingers, the sunshine reflecting , glistening. I was enjoying contact with the outside world. Not in my own little dimension, dozing off. I turned around to see a myriad of flowers and picked one, the shape of a trumpet, the colour of periwinkle, open and forgiving. The thought had occurred to me. This flower in my hand wouldn't have the chance to grow any longer. In my hands the carcass of a life, the chance of growth cut off. Something that could have been, but never will be. And I wondered to myself if I was treating myself in the same way. There are so many things that I want to do, things that would be beneficial and effective, however morning comes, and I convince myself that I will do something for the better, but night arrives and tells me that I'm too late. Why am I so lazy?

The tension in my bones, struggling under the weight of all the lives I am not living. “As long as you're doing your best, it's fine.”

Fallacies twitch in my ear, telling me that I don't want any of this. “You're just being logical, you aren't heartless and cold.”

I get up and turn the sprinklers on in the lawn. I frolic around like a toddler, one who isn't worrying about what's to come. I let the water shower my body, my clothes are drenched but it feels good. The vagrant clouds dance with the wind, influenced by her touch. I twirl around and jump about, carelessly. This is what life is meant to feel like. He asks her, "What happens after all of this?"

She responds, "We'll just have to wait and see".

I lie back down onto the grass, out of breath. "You're wasting your-" ,

I hold my finger against my lips. "Hush". "This isn't the time", I finally respond. My eyes trail with the slow moving clouds and hum a melody for the two to dance to. I used to be too busy observing the world revolving around me and wondered, if I hadn't existed at all, would the bees still buzz? And the petals still drift to the ground? Would the birds still hum or would the roots rot? Would the earth still spin, for me? Or am I just another momentary speck in this universe? Now I know the answers, and regardless I will keep trying for the sake of nothing, but me.

For I realised that caterpillars wait and wait for the transformation, hope in the sky, where they longed to be, and did not just wake up, and become the butterfly. So I will also wait. Wait and wait. Until I silently bloom, in my own way.