Friday, 26 August 2011

The right to write.

So a month or so ago I entered a writing competition, and considering I decided to do so about an hour before the deadline, I'm pretty pleased with what came out. As this is the case, I thought I'd share it with you. :)

Sticks and stones won’t break my bones, but words and actions haunt me.
We are born with this wonderful fleshy armour that is designed to protect us from disease and damage, but the holes in our head which let in the light and sound are the only chinks our enemies need.
We are often told that the brain is like a sponge, and that long-since taught facts and figures can be found second shelf to the left, next to Aunty Glenda’s birthday, but no-one talks about the dark, dimly-lit corner where the bad memories lurk, with the long held on to grudges, and the jibes from “heated discussions.”
Some people’s dark corners are bigger than the average. Some people have entire dark sections, just down those stairs that no-one really likes the look of, and the local children terrify each other with myths and stories of what lies at the bottom. In the basement of our thoughts, insults and jibes cling to the walls like damp; taking on a viscous, tar-like feeling, coating every one of our thoughts and actions and tinging everyday life with their damning effects.
Words are magical and wonderful, but when put in the wrong hands they can maim and destroy. Some people grow out of being bullied, but think of those children that don’t. Those children that dwell in the basement of life, sunlight never feeling quite as warm as it does to others, because they aren’t worthy of the simplest pleasures, or at least have been told it often enough that they believe it.
“Don’t leave children to fester in basements” seems like an obvious imperative, but figuratively, every child, every person, deserves the right to believe in themselves enough to climb those stairs and breathe in the sweet, fresh air of their own identity, so if you encounter someone in need, take the time to shine a light in their direction, and maybe even offer a hand to start them on their uphill struggle, and know that by the time they reach the surface you will have quite possibly saved their life.

1 comment:

  1. I'd love to have something half-decent to say about this, but I'm crap at that sort of thing. All I really have to say is that everything you write is utterly beautiful, and each of your blog posts reminds why it is I decided to study words, because there are people like you who put them together in wonderful ways. :)