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Journal: Silver Lining
This shouldn't take long. I wont bother to put any structure or process to something that came as ephemerally as this thought did.
Today, just like every other day, I was thinking. I seem to be unable to stop. Anyway, someone very, very, very dear to me came into my mind, she does so very often still even though its been a while. I remembered one of the many nights in which we talked about what she was having to endure. For too long now shes constantly had to endure things too harsh for most people to have to go through, ever since the moment I met her I know what she experiences isn't fair. However, with few exceptions, she always forced her own face up and a smile across her porcelain doll face and said "its gonna be ok. Everything's gonna be ok eventually." And every time she said that I swallowed the knot in my throat and agreed with her, then wished with my all that I was able to hold her and wipe the tears away from her face with my own thumbs. I never did get that chance, and I probably never will, <no, shes not dead,> 'N'any case. On this night she said something I hadn't heard her say before, perhaps by chance only. She said "Just have to remember the silver lining". I asked er to explain the phrase tome, even though I already knew it.
The silver lining... she lived in the middle of the black, and constantly forced herself to keep her eyes on the silver lining. Today this night came to my head, and I began to think about it. About what it means, what it suggests, and what it was to her and what it is to me. And then I realized something. I remembered the explanation she gave me of it, and realized that ever since I first heard that term, I had visualized it differently than most people.
The silver lining... this is how I pictured it: A room. A pitch black room, amorphous and asymmetrical in shape. It lacks a ceiling, as far as the eye can see, the darkness just rose perpetually. The walls, that followed along the perimeter of the room, never touched the ground. It was for the most part made up of doors. the shapes and sizes of the doors become a mystery a few inches above their end as the darkness drowns the filtering light quickly. I bet you've guessed that the light that filtered along the entire perimeter of the room was the silver lining. My whole life I walked along this light, though covered in darkness and confined indefinitely to this room, I walked along the light. I slept against it, I tried to see through it by crouching and looking under the bottom of the doors when I needed it the most. When I needed that hope given by the idea that there was something more, and that its there. As reachable as the doors were crushable. And hope was all it boiled down to.
However, these doors were only there because I had assumed so, I now realize. I focused so much on the silver.. told myself there was hope... so worried about what I experienced, and not at all about where I was. I stood up and looked around me, and realized I'd been lieing to myself for a lifetime. Telling myself that there was something more to make myself smile even though the true nature of the silver lining was always right under my nose. I took a step past the lining, and the doors disappeared to reveal... my same darkness. All along the lining the walls crumbled and evaporated into the air.These walls, I realised, had been all I had, and the only reason they had been there was that I told myself that there was something more and something blocking me from it. But now that I had stood up and face the chains <youll have to excuse me at this point, im getting very sleepy> I found that there were never any chains to hold me down on a particular place.
Still... I looked down and saw again the silver lining. It outlined what had been the room with its angelical and metallic glow. But there it was. That silver outline painted on the bottom of an oceanof darkness. And still I clung to it. Stupidly optimistically I kept my barren feet on the guilded lining, being it all there was left... memories of promises never to be fulfilled. A myriad of false hopes. And so I walk along it. And I walk and I walk and I walk and I walk along the silver lining. And the more I walk along it, the more the pain fades. I look to my left and right and see nothing that the darkness I never looked directly into. And I looked bellow to see my worn out feet, wounded and exhausted of walking in the same circle, only to take a paint chip with each footstep. And now I realize I have no doors, no lining, no source of hope. The silvers fading away and I see the silver linings almost gone, and that evenif it wasnt... its just paint... no filtered light froma beautiful outside. I AM outside. And theres no beyond, theres just the black ocean and the last smudges of pain waiting to be walked over. And then those are gone... those will be gone.
My ass hurts and im tired of this shit. I'll scrape away the lining and lay among the shades.