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Like everyone else on the planet likely experiences, every day is a constant, never-ending battle. Songs such as "Love Is A Battlefield" have been written, but it doesn't cease after you get through the romantic battle of the war— at least not for me.
For years my dad and I have shared interest in the concept of a large tattoo—if he were to get it, stretched across his shoulder blades—outlined in a Victorian font that says "FIGHT", filled in with a metaphorical scene of a man versus angel battle on a field of war. I imagine I think about the idea of it more often than he does, because I feel like what this tattoo would express, if it were to ever exist on skin, is how I feel constantly. I am surrounded by evil men I am sacrificing my "life" to help, yet with unfamiliarity they are trying to kill me (amongst many other reasons). They'd rip off my wings if they could, just to make me appear the same as them. I'm not claiming I'm an angel sent down from heaven,—which I'm not sure if I really believe in anyway, but you get the idea—but I strongly believe in a "class system" of humanity that is predetermined, similar to the common concept and belief of "destiny". I have a belief so deep within me that I find it impossible that I, nor anyone else could have instilled it. I believe I am a saint.
Knowing that my suffering has the ability help others as long as I process and present it in the correct way keeps me positive in fighting everything that has been thrown at me. I may get angry and upset, or sometimes feel like I don't deserve bad things happening to me, but in reality it's not about me at the end of the day and it never has been. It's about me only to the short extent that I should always be creating a graspable presentation of an event that has recently taken place so that I can help others help themselves.
Somehow this has transformed into an essay promoting inspiration and uplift to the reader, when that wasn't my original intention. (Not that I am surprised, I am void of any complete selfish desires.) When I first opened this document over an hour ago I was very angry, and I wanted everyone to know what I was sick of fighting and why. As I type these letters now I am even considering not listing anything at all, because I'm not sure if it would help. Although, if people had knowledge that I fought and at the bare minimum survived fairly basic things like they, alongside extremely difficult things that they may never experience, they could relate on a new level with me.
Perhaps tomorrow.
4 comments:
There are many of us that have to pull ourselves past the passing moments of pressures that don't seem fair to us. Some of us have lost so much of what makes us who we are, but we keep going, looking to see what will it be next. It took me a long time to teach myself how to at least half way take control of my own mind. Being labeled is so very cruel and needless. Like I have said to myself others, "You can only judge Me after you look in the mirror and judge yourself first". But the good thing is, they have to think about it, then I am free from others jugdement. We are the only ones that can judge ourselves, we don't judge them, do we? You have all the right ideas, they just need to be put in order of what is most important to YOU!
I'm glad someone believes that I have all the right ideas and that they just need to be put in the right order, I share that opinion with you. I'm grateful that I can recognize that they just need to be filed in order of importance, because some people will die never know what's important in general, and never have a good idea of things that matter to them. To only be seventeen and have a fairly good clue in relation to where I'm at in life, I feel blessed to be capable of comprehension on that level of thinking.
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