Second Chance LJ Idol, Week 3, Topic: These Trails I've Walked
Glass. Concrete. Dirt.
I once walked a trail of muddy glass, a trail of illusion. On my path, I believed the 'right' and 'wrong' of other men. A bitter, hard trail which slipped and slid underneath me. A hard trail full of rules given to me by another. The glass seemed transparent, so I could see through it, but it was a foggy, muddy glass which no light could truly, genuinely penetrate.
Looking back, it was not the trail of someone who would become a proper adult, but a trail meant for someone who was to remain an eternal child, or perhaps better, livestock. It was a trail on which I found the illusion of good and the illusion of evil, given to me by a parent who sought to control and manipulate me, to make me into a tool for his use.
At eighteen years, I shattered the trail of glass, cut my feet, and bled. For a while I sat in place, clutching my feet in pain, biting my lip, without really moving forward in life. My trail broken, the illusion shattered, I had nowhere to walk, and for a while I didn't want to walk.
Then I found another trail. This was a trail of concrete. Jagged and hard, but truly stable. This trail was a moral code, to never be like that man. To never follow in the footsteps of my father. It was a trail which could support my weight, no matter what I had to bear. A perfect moral code.
...And yet, every time I made a mistake, I stepped on a rock and hurt myself. It wouldn't cut me like glass, it wouldn't drop me to the ground and stop me forever, but it gave me pause. I would admonish myself whenever I broke my extremely tight moral code, ignoring the paths of the people around me, ignoring the gentler and more forgiving ways of living which the people around me walked through, living.
You're a bad boyfriend for being jealous. A painful pebble.
Don't rely on others so much, stand up for yourself. A bigger rock.
Stop being such a coward. That one got me right on the ball of my foot and hurt like hell.
You can't even follow your own moral code. You're worthless. A trail of concrete just ended up being the gravel in an endless driveway.
I've grown tired of walking the concrete trail. The trail of absolute perfection. Every mistake, every rock hurts so horribly. It's not a trail that I can bear.
And so, I seek in my life to walk a natural path. A trail in life I can really sink my toes into. It's not a soft path, and it's not devoid of rocks and twigs and other sharp objects to give my feet hell. But the feel of the grass between my toes is wonderful. A trail which isn't so hard that I have to admonish myself for every mistake, and have to face down all the time to avoid the rocks, and miss the clear blue sky.
If I can be free with myself, forgive myself then I can face the sky on this dirt trail. I can walk between trees and enjoy the scent of pine and pretend it doesn't remind me of that time I had a bit too much gin. I can walk forward, hum, sing, do cartwheels and even climb one of those lovely trees, and if I fall off, even if I hit my head I'll just be dizzy when I get right back up instead of leaking thinkmatter all over ground.
There are rocks, and there are twigs, but even when I step on one of those the rest of the ground is soft and will absorb the impact. A natural trail, where instead of acting according to what a bunch of hard, unforgiving rules say, I will walk to the beat of what feels right to me. It's still firm enough to support my legs, but it's not so hard to break my feet.
Perhaps that's what I was always looking for.
I once walked a trail of muddy glass, a trail of illusion. On my path, I believed the 'right' and 'wrong' of other men. A bitter, hard trail which slipped and slid underneath me. A hard trail full of rules given to me by another. The glass seemed transparent, so I could see through it, but it was a foggy, muddy glass which no light could truly, genuinely penetrate.
Looking back, it was not the trail of someone who would become a proper adult, but a trail meant for someone who was to remain an eternal child, or perhaps better, livestock. It was a trail on which I found the illusion of good and the illusion of evil, given to me by a parent who sought to control and manipulate me, to make me into a tool for his use.
At eighteen years, I shattered the trail of glass, cut my feet, and bled. For a while I sat in place, clutching my feet in pain, biting my lip, without really moving forward in life. My trail broken, the illusion shattered, I had nowhere to walk, and for a while I didn't want to walk.
Then I found another trail. This was a trail of concrete. Jagged and hard, but truly stable. This trail was a moral code, to never be like that man. To never follow in the footsteps of my father. It was a trail which could support my weight, no matter what I had to bear. A perfect moral code.
...And yet, every time I made a mistake, I stepped on a rock and hurt myself. It wouldn't cut me like glass, it wouldn't drop me to the ground and stop me forever, but it gave me pause. I would admonish myself whenever I broke my extremely tight moral code, ignoring the paths of the people around me, ignoring the gentler and more forgiving ways of living which the people around me walked through, living.
You're a bad boyfriend for being jealous. A painful pebble.
Don't rely on others so much, stand up for yourself. A bigger rock.
Stop being such a coward. That one got me right on the ball of my foot and hurt like hell.
You can't even follow your own moral code. You're worthless. A trail of concrete just ended up being the gravel in an endless driveway.
I've grown tired of walking the concrete trail. The trail of absolute perfection. Every mistake, every rock hurts so horribly. It's not a trail that I can bear.
And so, I seek in my life to walk a natural path. A trail in life I can really sink my toes into. It's not a soft path, and it's not devoid of rocks and twigs and other sharp objects to give my feet hell. But the feel of the grass between my toes is wonderful. A trail which isn't so hard that I have to admonish myself for every mistake, and have to face down all the time to avoid the rocks, and miss the clear blue sky.
If I can be free with myself, forgive myself then I can face the sky on this dirt trail. I can walk between trees and enjoy the scent of pine and pretend it doesn't remind me of that time I had a bit too much gin. I can walk forward, hum, sing, do cartwheels and even climb one of those lovely trees, and if I fall off, even if I hit my head I'll just be dizzy when I get right back up instead of leaking thinkmatter all over ground.
There are rocks, and there are twigs, but even when I step on one of those the rest of the ground is soft and will absorb the impact. A natural trail, where instead of acting according to what a bunch of hard, unforgiving rules say, I will walk to the beat of what feels right to me. It's still firm enough to support my legs, but it's not so hard to break my feet.
Perhaps that's what I was always looking for.