Tag Archives: Change

Size Matters

The home I lived in when I was twelve?

It was comfortable, if I were to describe it in one word; it was just small enough for the four of us that lived there, and still big enough for the six extra visitors we’d get everyday. It wasn’t cramped, though it did get a little tight when you had six children screaming and running after a ball.

It was a terrace, with the same, white walls as both its neighbours. It had too many plants for its own good, though I certainly did find butterflies of many colours more than once. We had a dog, too.

He was old when I was young, and it wasn’t too long before he left us for a better place, but he was a delight to have. He’d never fail to bark at any of the others when they visited. The same way he’d never fail to quieten down when either my mother or myself went to see to him when my cousins got scared.

When I pass it by now, it’s dusty. It’s still unoccupied, just as we left it, and though it looks nothing like it used to.

It brings back the memories of butterflies and company.

Mind Reader

[Prompt]

There is frustration and sadness and a heaviness that isn’t in his usual gait as he walks away. Perhaps it’s confusion, or maybe even anger, but there’s no hint of the latter as he leaves the room. The door is shut behind him softly, and it takes all my self-control not to scream out. It’s never pleasant when he leaves; it’s always cold and dreary, grey like the sky before the rain falls. Sometimes I don’t know whether I’m looking too much into his actions, or if I’m simply not seeing enough.

There are days where I think that I have been able to delve into his mind; that I’ve been able to see more of him than the face everyone else sees. But then I realise that his words are seamless, that his mask has been impeccably crafted, and that only a master would be able to distinguish tale from truth.

And it has to be obvious that I am no master.

There is desperation in my actions, and a neediness in my voice as I cry out for him. I am a novice in every meaning of the word, and in every aspect of this role. I want to see behind the mask; I want to dive under the lies and sift through the layers until I reveal the core of his being. I want to be able to help him like no one else has, and being the novice that I am, I make the first mistake of asking.

It becomes clear to me, later on, that if I were to truly help, I would have to do it forcibly, because he would never willingly make the change. Perhaps the change is not for the best, but perhaps it is necessary. It is necessary because despite the controversy, change is perhaps the only constant we have.

Nothing stays the same, and similarly; neither can he.

Even after he leaves, and even once the sound of footsteps has given way to perfect silence, I can still feel the frustration. Nothing else was needed to show exactly how he’d felt. No words and not even actions. It’s colder now, and even as I try to warm myself, I know that it is futile. He is the sky in which I am the sun, and he is a tree of which I am a mere leaf.

He is the brutality of cold, hard reason, and I am nothing but the compassion that cowers under it.

Change

And the judgement is this;
Though the light has come into the world,
People have preferred Darkness to the light,
Because their deeds were Evil.

 

Chaos reigns, the world falls to pieces, and yet nothing we do can save us. None of our pretty words make a difference, not when the routine habits that have been hammered into us keep us planted in the past. No matter who speaks out, somehow miraculously snapping out of the harness and seeing through the haze, they are cut down. Some might embrace them, opening their eyes to see what others cannot; but the majority, those who are afraid of seeing too far ahead; those afraid of the unknown will band together in a show of strength, pushing back those who try to break free and forcing them back into the lives of straight suits and picket fences.

Though we may band together when trouble approaches, pushing past old problems and seeing past the mundane fights, we are still unable to forget the mishaps. We are unable to truly see past the past and forge a new road to the future. Or perhaps, it is only the faint-hearted, those who wear their hearts on their sleeves that ‘forgive and forget,’ as the saying goes.

Sparks of light shining bright and alone in the darkness of our mistakes, sprinkled through our histories like stars, have come and gone. People who have made differences, large and small. We may not know them all, not by name, or even by face, but they are there. Despite all the constrictions around them, they push out, palms flat against the walls of society as they try to break the walls that keep us all divided.

It isn’t the big acts that keep our world together, it’s the small ones, the ones that most people think don’t matter. It’s the smile you give that harried woman as you hand over her purchases, the hand you lend the elderly man to walk him across the street to the bench he always sits at, it’s the change you drop into the torn paper cup that makes that scruffy person grunt in acknowledgement. Not everyone is meant to strengthen the world as a whole; most of us aren’t even meant to strengthen our own families alone, but we’re all here to change something.

Someone.

Or perhaps, asking this is too much, after all; none of us like our regimens and our routines changed for someone else. Not when our worlds revolve around us, which is a truth that most people wouldn’t be able to deny. Our lives are ours. We slave to bring things to ourselves; money, family, and love.

So perhaps a change of perspective is in order.

Don’t we all want ourselves plastered amongst the stars? Don’t we all want to be the protagonists in the scripts of our lives? If that is the case, then what kind of lead would one be if there were no decent scenes in the script? If there were no side characters?

A dull movie that would turn out to be, no?

Chaos reigns, and the world falls to pieces; these pretty words are whispers that cannot be heard, and these changes are perhaps the gates to a world no one has dared to open fully.

And perhaps for good reason.