THE GIRL IN THE RED DRESS

I saw her face, a crowded place.
I have reached the point in my life where I have to start my journey. Time to stop ‘trying to’ live life and live it for once. With my vision blurred and a problematic iris, I found myself in the middle of my mid-life crisis and realised I had been living life the wrong way. I was on a wrong journey, one that was asymmetric with destiny. So, I broke out of my shell.

My shell, my home, was once my safe-ground, is now holding me back in a prison. The membrane that stays in its shell too long begins to rot. I was trapped inside a box. I needed to think outside the box, live outside the box. I never gave space to new dreams; I let the old dreams tie me down. I never gave myself the chance to grow or evolve. Instead, I remained the yolk in this shell. I let myself remain vulnerable and fragile in my safe house. I liked the view of being a baby rocked in his crib looking at the stars, in his glass house. So, I broke out of my shell and spread my wings.

I spread my wings and flew till I touched the sky. The impossible was now in an arm’s reach. I liked the view up here; failure looks as small as an ant when you looked down on it. From here, fantasy was slowing, becoming a reality, dreams were becoming memories. I looked around and played with the clouds and built snowmen with clouds with silver linings. I pulled the stars closer to my pillow whenever I went to bed. I broke off my shell and spread my wings; I could fly, I was a butterfly. The rays of the sun first hit me.

The rays of the sun first hit me, and I saw the light. It was like I was walking on a road of darkness till I saw the light. I chose a new destiny, one worth believing in and not settling for. I smiled for the first time and marveled at this new land, a land of opportunity and countless possibilities. I grabbed my pick ready for my first day of work. Today I’m gonna be a gold-digger. House of horrors and failures, I put that house on the market and watched its price depreciate. Sold the voices in my head, coz you know, talk is cheap. I went fishing in the Fanta-sea (fantasy) of dreams and caught one. Laid it on the table, pulled a fork and a knife from my back, I have been stabbed too many times.  With one bite, I reminisced about how I used to walk alone, only with my shadow, I walked with darkness.

My walk in darkness in search for a light bulb was the equivalent of a snowman’s walk in search of the sun. Snowmen and I are creatures of the night, never meant to see the light. What happens when a dark mind gets a bright idea, and that lightbulb pops up? I’m on a path to a story with no good ending, like a vampire falling in love with a human.

So I write my heartbreak in my vampire diaries and sleep in my coffin, how fitting. If I sleep in a coffin every day, nobody will show up at my funeral.  If I cried wolf every day, nobody would show up at my funeral. If I killed everybody that mattered, nobody would show up for my funeral. But as I flew into the light, I noticed that my companion, my shadow wouldn’t show up for my funeral.

As I walked away from my funeral and into my new life, I saw her face. We were in the subway, there were lifeless beings around me all in white and black but she stood out, dressed in a red dress. I don’t know why I thought my dream girl would wear a white dress, something like a wedding dress. Funny what we EXCEPT to find when we go searching UNEXPECTEDLY. I knew I had to meet her, grab her by the arm, and see her face. I rushed through the black and white crowd. Going into the hunger games, just to have a food fight. I’m switching moods like them mood-lights. Feel like I’m moonwalking towards the moonlight. Moonlight too bright, so I wear sunglasses and turn towards the sunlight.
To be continued...