DIARY ENTRY

I Write

I write in order to turn the unknown and questions of confusion into an image as I lay down the pieces of a puzzle on random areas of a surface. I write so that when I return to the previous perspective, I am fascinated by the way a landscape starts to shape as the ends of the puzzle pieces shift nearer and nearer to others. I write so that I can move emotions from wondering and wandering into a sequence of letters with order and rationality. I write because I cannot contain what goes through me, like a clay jar that cracks under a momentum of pressure. Yes, it is my escape, the little hole of relief for those pressures to pour out of. So today I am writing in need of relief, a reason, for tears and terrors.


Time

I sit and witness tree’s passing the frame of a window besides me, as I hear the train making a sound with every track it passes. I cannot help but see resemblances of how this passing can be compared to the moments that make up our time here on earth. Time, I have come to realize, is our only possession that cannot be measured with equal value. Although it is understood that one does not have the sovereignty to choose the duration of your time, you do have the choice as to how much value you would place on it. Would you give minutes value? Would you regard your hour to be worth more than gold? Contrary to popular belief, the value of life is not increased through accumulation. It seems that the more we accumulate, the more of ourselves we lose to it’s trust. I’m giving up this whole lie, for everything we see is not what it seems.

I see my image in the mirror in front of me as the light of the screen reflects and contrasts the already present shadows. Like darkness can only be present in the absence of light, fear only exists if we believe that love is not there. Love is the greatest value you could at to your time. So don’t be scared, by adding that value, you will have the privilege to enrich all those that surround you. As it comes for you to pass, what you regard as valuable would determine the very value you leave. Your choice.


Pappa Memorial

A memory is a moment one can recall from the past, but when a person’s life is so integrated into your own that you speak his words, have his hands and are his character, it is not in the past but in the present where I see him.

He has given me the gift of life, and the gift of love, the very love that allows rivers to pour from my eyes and discover a depth of despair I never thought I would.

But the light is lighter and brighter when one has walking through the deepest darkness, and if the hurt runs to my very being, I cannot fully imagine the glory there will be in healing.

Now that I understand the oppression you were battling through, I can begin to consider the courage it took to live. As I would lay my head against your beating chest, you would whisper with that assured and confident concern, “Go for it sussie”, so pappa, nou gaan ek daarvoor, vandag is soveel mooier as wat gister was.

Now that I know that you are relieved and overwhelmed in love, I live in jealousy of what you have as you get to meet our Maker and feel the warmth of His embrace.

Oh God, I stand entirely at your mercy, but from what you have shown me, like a father taking the hand of his own child, it is the safest place to be standing

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