Gia Raquel

For a while, I’ve been existing. Existing is the raw and candid form of humanity. What could be wrong with it? Well you see, existing is the very basis of who we are. But nothing more. We rely upon it to supply a foundation, so we can build and prosper beyond the umbilical chord. Yet here I am, robotically tying myself to the core. To the bottom. It is a type of hibernation that I often seek refuge in. But I believe I’ve almost overstayed my welcome.

Merely existing provides a jail cell I willingly put myself into. I’m not actively living. I’m nodding, I’m smiling, I’m speaking, all the attributes of a toy from FAO Schwarz! But sardonic humor will only get me so far. In this state of auto-pilot, I’ve had the same mindset: Just get through the next week. I’ve been viewing time as more of an obstacle than a utility. Isn’t it odd how so many people just crave more time? Even I catch myself thinking how limited one lifetime can be. Yet, there are numerous moments you look at time and think of how endless it is. I’ve been nestled in this corner of my mind, unable to express myself. I feel as though when I look at myself, I just see fragile bone protruding through skin, creating this distorted mosaic of blood and cartilage.

As a child, I had no perception of reality. I believed I had two left feet and could create my own language out of scribbles. I’m older now, more cynical, but still hold the picture of that girl in the creases of my palms. There are times when I feel like her again, where I’m awake, I’m alive. It’s this time of divine clarity where I can change the world with the mere look on my face. And you know what? I believe that. I can do it. And I will do it.

I’m awake, but I’m far from rested. I believe it’s about time I bring the life back into my eyes. I have made amends with the cracked reflection I’ve concaved into. She’s beautiful in a way, don’t you think?

There’s a sad satisfaction seeing how much tragedy has touched your skin. Where you can hold your head up once more and scream, “look at me!”.

So go on. Look at me. Tell me what you see.