No Other

The world portrays a shining light upon your face, hailing a one-of-a-kind marvel. Praises ring in from far and near, passers-by stand in awe, and the crowd shouts a thousand cheers. Placing you upon a throne of such divine reckoning, the feeling is comparable to that of lightness of air. A zero to hero moment, a life-changing second.

Yet, it all falls apart. Because none of it matters when the world does not include the one which means the world to you. And so the fall begins, and you never really get back up on your feet.

Somehow, you regain composure, you regain calmness, you regain your lost self. Life seems bright once again, brighter than ever.

And here comes the darkness once again. The rest is recent history, but so reminiscent of the not so distant past.

***

I am here now for who I was. The past predetermines the future, no doubt, but whether it directly causes history that repeats itself remains to be seen. The hunch is that it will, no matter the effort to prevent such occurrences.

Yes, truth be told I am not in the right frame of mine. I guess I never was, never will be. Recovering from past wounds is never possible, because scars are eternal. No matter the effort to right the wrongs of the time long gone, it will return in memory as a wrong nonetheless.

All because of the attitude of one so naive, life had to present a wake up call so drastic it shook the pillars of time. And he is still shaken to the core, for the remembrance of tragedies is so vivid in mind. Plagued by the curse that is inexperience, I trot on not knowing what lies beyond each new corner I take on this turf. The situation is so similar, yet to different in many more new ways. The effort to change actions and thoughts to something much more suiting is though tiresome and painstaking, has nothing to show for all the time and energy it has ripped apart from my being.

To change what has been etched in stone, to change a belief so strong. To change from what I once was, or still am now. But well, some things are never meant to be, never meant to be changed. Impressions last a lifetime, or I dare say a miracle alters the fabric of time itself to save a lost cause such as this.

The ring in which I live life in is repeating its cycle once again. Never once did I doubt that circumstance, and I probably never will. We shall see.

No other. You don't know me. Right here waiting.