”For he or she alone who walks that path will know how much it hurt, how their feet scorched from the burning heat, how the sharp pebbles pierced their skin, how the ware and tear tore at their flesh, how their bodies slowly broke down to bits and pieces before their own eyes, how their spirits were crushed little by little till non was left , and how much they appreciated having the importance of a destination ."
I remember writing this a long time ago to commemorate the memory of an incident that took place sometime back. Although I look back now and think that maybe it wasn't all that great a brouhaha and there is little I can recall from the events that lead me to write this, whenever I recall this sentence, I remember that at that time I was in great pain. I needed an outlet to secretly vent so I wrote this in a letter which I posted in a blog post which only a few close friends knew about. At that time it felt right and somehow whoever read it understood what I was trying to say and reached out to me.
Recently several new incidents took place in my life. Needless to say they were a whole string of very upsetting events but somehow I wasn't as upset or as grief stricken as I should have been.Under normal circumstances I would have been all over the place crying loud crisis instead here I was not running around amok. I found this lack of emotional affinity a little amusing and quite disturbing. Over the weeks I moved around and about as if nothing was happening although my life continued to be sucked into great turmoil.
A few days ago I remembered this letter I wrote and tried to look it up again, I sought out the sentence and somehow now its gotten stuck in my head. It felt suitable to my current condition. After reading this sentence over and over again I am slowly beginning to realize that just because it doesn't hurt anymore it doesn't mean the pain has disappeared instead it just means that Ive gotten used to living with it and for what its worth I remember how it hurt, it hurt a lil lot like hell.
