I have built such a strong fort against external force and harm because of a well-learned experience that nothing, not even Optimus Prime’s brawny arms can tear me apart. Nor can Yoda (or is he Yoga? I forget) talk me out of surrendering. Bruce Lee is nothing – he’s just a piece of meat with two fists. Really big….fast fists. But still….nothing can penetrate this fortress.
I am invincible, unconquerable, impregnable and indestructible. I am not afraid of threats because I KNOW no one can hurt me.
Nothing can hurt me for I have learned to ignore pain. Tears no longer know their way down these cheeks because it’s simply disallowed. Not permitted. Permission denied. Steel things don’t cry.
I have made myself so strong that I have protected myself from…myself. Betray me, I dare you to. Tell on me, love someone else….go ahead, sell my soul the devil. I will not give in. Sometimes, I am not alright and I push the weak side away and tell her to go ‘wallow in self pity’ in another person’s body. There’s no space for weak emotions. I am strong for I am made of steel.
I will not allow anyone, anything, any circumstance to hurt me again. Even if I am not alright now, I will be. If you push a knife into my steel body, all you’ll leave is a scar…..and much to your chagrin, nothing else.
*** *** ***
Shite. Alright, alright. I am NOT made of fooking steel.
I am a little girl inside. But it’s amazing because, the above….I wrote that some time back. In fact, I’ve written many other versions of it thereafter and therebefore (this is the, by far, steeliest of them all); none of them published in any form of blog or website.
Every time I read them again, it strengthens me and yet it serves as a reminder to me as well. WHO. ARE. YOU. FOOKING. KIDDING, huh? WHO? The only people who still thinks I am made of steel are my kids because they’re really heavy now and they laugh at me when I cringe when carrying them or giving them a piggy back ride. Argh! Was that the sound of my creaking joints or did I just dislodge my shoulder?
Anyway, I’ve come a long way since. I sometimes still think I am made of steel because the last time I cried, I was watching a movie. Not even when things crashed down on me that I cried. Not a single tear….except for one time. It was the extra dose of drinks that I took…those weren’t REAL TEARS. Heylow!???? Those were drops of Tequila mixed with Jack Daniels and some other forms of drinks that I can’t (for the life of me) fooking remember. Those drinks….they found their way to my tear ducts and just started, you know....just rolling down my cheeks and all. The cheek on those drinks….
OK, fine. I cried.
But you know what? I think it’s fine. I think it’s alright. So what – steel things can’t cry now? And besides, I’ve learned and re-learned every now and again that when a friend ask you, “Are you OK?”, I don’t have to say, “Oh, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Instead, I’ve learned how to say, “You know what? I am NOT ALRIGHT, ok? But I will be”.
Comments
winnie, you're right about capacity to feel shit comes hand in hand with capacity to feel really good. orgasms are good, aren't they? hahahahaha, yeah. believe me, i know of people who just can't snap out of a 'crapfest'. :-) thanks, winnie! *muax*
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tom@leftoverlovers.com
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steel is hard and strong, but when immersed in something soft and formless like sea water, it will corrode and break down.
no such thing as invulnerable or impregnable lor..
hmm.. perhaps you can start picking up taichi, especially at this stage in life hor. hard-hard, soft-soft, hard-hard, soft-so..
ZZZZzzzzzz
xD
and besides, I don't remember learning such a thing in school oso. where got? eh, i enterprising person lah...i no go sains stream wan. i perdagangan stream wan...