A Hero Within the Hero

By
My hero is not an organic being, for humans are to small, insolent, and judgmental to comprehend the tragic secrecy behind my kind façade. My hero is myself because I find that if you can find the courage and strength to pull yourself up and away from the people who dug you a ditch and pushed you in there, then you can hold the world in the palm of your hand.

I am not talking about standing up to bullies, I am talking about your closest family and friends, because they hold the power to hurt you most.

My friends…who are they? I have some, but I do not know them and I know how close they are to pushing me into that ditch because they have already dug it. When they disregard the good opinion I have, my happiness is given away, so I write at lunch instead of talk, and when I speak and am interrupted every time I try to say something, I only put on a smile to keep my friends happy, after all, it is they before me, right? I love my friends, I will die for them, but before there actions kill my spirit, I have to lift my spirit first.

I have done it before, and I will do it again. My friends see me as a strong and good person (I think) and that is because every time they threw me into that ditch, I pulled myself back up again by the strength of my steel motivation and hard courage. I am my own Superman, and Superman has taught me how to love the ones that hurt me most because they teach life.

Now, my family, they never see me at all. So, when I am alone in my house with my computer open to Microsoft Word “I find some peace, that knows how to please and soothe the soul.” Yes, I just plagiarized my own work from my short story “Deep in Thought” but those of you reading may not have read that because I marked that as anonymous, but that is how I truly feel. How else can you feel when you write? Is it not indescribable? I do not want to elaborate on this subject though because these are too passionate to be described with this subject.

Between my family and I, there is a barrier which neither they or I could cross and when I am sad without my family I save myself from depression, so they never see me like that. They remain happy and my façade lives on to keep many happy.

My friends, I pray will live on happily as I wish for my family, and may my façade remain a perfect lie.





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EverlastingWords said...
Jan. 30, 2009 at 10:34 pm
sorry about the word "façade" it is actually supposed to be "facade" it must have been changed in the submission process.
 
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