The Wave

May 3, 2011
I am caged.
I am not free.
The thought of freedom reminds me of childhood, when I believed I was free.
I wasn’t.
I am institutionalized, forced to learn what others know.
Forced to ignore my dreams in order to succeed.
I am not as I am.
The world sees the tangible, emotional and fictional.
What isn’t seen is the truth
Only found beyond sight.
I’ve shamed others, but more frequently, I am shamed.
Ashamed by biology, ashamed by disappointment,
Ashamed by emotions and actions that don’t belong to me.
We separate ourselves from what shames us
And look for something to be proud of.
Sometimes it is unnecessary to be proud.
Sometimes being is enough.
Except when being is accompanied by torment and grief, which is inevitable.
Life tends to act like a wave controlled by no one.
This uncontrollable wave ebbs and flows,
And eventually simmers or is stolen by
A tidal wave.
The wave
Ends
Eventually.
Through out the course of a wave’s existence,
It crashes with other waves following different paths.
When these waves crash into each other,
Something beautiful happens
Familiarity
Understanding
Some other waves have been down the same path as your wave.
They collide and keep colliding until they can’t anymore.
Then the blueness of your wave emerges.
Sadness consumes the once proud and powerful crash
Which is now timid and useless.
You are then overcome by yourself and many others
Swallowing you, drowning,
Yet you finally
Reach the shore
Only to be pulled back underneath.
I am a wave.
Endlessly
Eternally
Beautifully
Crashing.





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