Hope is what drives us when life is hard. Faith is what keeps us hoping in the first place. We often seem to forget to savor the moments in life forgetting that life, life isn’t forever. Existence maybe, but life as we know know it, the earth, has an expiry date. And us, humans, are ticking time bombs. What? The fact that you don’t like to think about it or hear it doesn’t mean it’s not true.
The whole point of your struggles, hustles and hassles is to have a comfortable happy life and I’m happy for you and proud of you. But us humans, oh so fragile meatbags supported by skeleton frames, could die a little more easily than a fly. I’m serious, I’m not even exaggerating. No bullet can kill a fly dear. No I’m not here to talk about death and it’s cold icy hands that was a preamble, I’m sorry.
I’m here to talk about life, and love, and faith and hope, and happiness and everything that makes us happy and keeps us going.
If you ever lay in bed, be it a Ralph Lauren Kingsize or a rickety wooden frame with an old mattress like the one I sleep in and cried yourself to sleep, you know how it feels to be unhappy. Angry probably or sad, or confused, unhappy can mean many things, you know what I’m talking about. Then you know what it feels like to need a reason to carry on. Whether it’s a degree or a baby or a relationship or a job you want, you know what you want and that’s the only thing that drives you at a certain point. For me, however, it’s hopes and dreams that seem unattainable. I can’t find a path. So what keeps me going then?
Fire. Yes not a physical flame, but the knowledge of oblivion. The earth won’t wait for me, the world won’t. I could lay here and sulk and cry and class would continue regardless, I’d fail my exams if I don’t study so I have to. Do you understand? That’s what I call the fire effect. I don’t want to go outside but there’s a fire in my room and I can’t be consumed by it either. No that is not hypothetical life literally won’t kill you graciously like a fire would.
You will feel the pain and suffer it. You’ll feel all of it and scream out for some relief and it wouldn’t come. I once said there’s a sweetness to pain. I say it again. There’s a pain that comes before triumph. It’s the triumph that you see after the pain that keeps you travailing like a woman in labor.
But what if there’s no baby? What if it’s just the pain then what next? For me, I’ve learnt to enjoy the pain. I’ve learnt to live through it like living through an ivy itch. That’s what keeps me going, the hope that one day my body will adjust to the poisons of the ivy plant and I’d feel better and forget the pain. You should try it. That’s funny, my name IS Ivy.