I’ve never been one to reach for the light, especially when there wasn’t one. Darkness is delicate. It’s familiar and comforting in a way that warms up my hard-faced facade, the act I have to keep up with during the day. It’s the moment of silence after crowded rooms and screaming children and endless ‘whys’ and ‘what fors’, ringing sound after steady repetitions of I am You are He, she, it is- And now I can recite them like a prayer for something more. Cause the dream was to reach crowded rooms and enchant them with speeches, inspire movements and sparks of passion. Ignite the light deep inside curious eyes and spread the wings no one knew existed. But when the sun hides its face, the feathers lose their colours and the winds calm down and we’re stuck on a cliff with a road back or a fall down, and I’d rather stand still in the monotony of hallway bells and bored faces. Give me just one small flame and I’ll burn the stagnation down to build a stadium of possibilities. I try every time. It doesn’t always work out. So I go back to the beginning. I am You are He, she, it is- And I wonder when we’re gonna move on to acknowledge other options, something beyond now, with a glimpse of then to tell our stories. But now I am not sure if we’ll make it work and you are on your way to leaving it all behind, while he is bored and she is more interested in the latest trend rising from a few views on a social page, and it is not what I’ve been fighting for, not what I expected. And I sit in the middle of nothing, trying to find my own spark that brought me to the front of the class with a wide smile and wild gestures, big statements and simplified speeches to share with empty eyes. Then the doors fly open and there’s a gust of wind with colourful wings carrying a story to tell. A story of friendships built on a foreign ground, moments shared with strangers over differences and similarities, books written in a state of alienation that brought unity. It’s a story of established futures and aiming for the moon, even though the landing ends up in the stars. It’s a testament of a spark unknowingly lit in a moment of passion behind the repetition, great success born from simple speeches and dimmed light. It was a moment to be remembered, paving someone else’s road to the top filled with enchanting speeches and moments of laughter, adding zeros to ones and bringing light to the darkness. But it starts with I am.
Artykuł opublikowany w ramach konkursu pisarskiego „Język w biznesie i życiu”
Autor: Katarzyna Lejkowska