the chaos of change

I always write in codes where meanings unfold differently to the level of whoever reads it knowing that I got diverse readership. This is probably where the art of writing comes in; where an inner stirring gets defused in a calculated manner and in layers to unravel. Well for those who cracked its core, you would have known that lately I am in for a ride of my life. And while I paint the chaos of my surroundings and to my surroundings, my inner pandemonium gets more magnified.

Oh yeah, this is one of those very rare times where I say “it’s not you, it’s me. I am the problem.” There I said it, plainly and clearly; not coded. And now that I got into terms with that, I can change it.

I thought I had bounced back from hitting rock bottom; instead I spent years circling it, fooling myself that I’m fine, clinging to those parts that have long been gone. And when I resisted this transition, I had disabled myself emotionally. I had become a walking time bomb, with maximum toxicity; almost incapable of maintaining harmonious friendships and becoming an emotional infant. I had developed paranoia thinking that people are deliberately creating problems to trip me up coupled with an egotism claiming my right for the world to wait on standby until I’m ready to do my bidding.

I could not accept and embrace my ignominious breakdown. Without such acceptance I could simply not have my leap of faith .Indeed a man’s faith can falter; mine just did.

And so I begged the Good One above for my own Pentecost experience, to have the wisdom to see the better path, to have the courage to face and embrace the chaos of change, to be fearless in the face of death.

I pray for faith.