Monday, February 1, 2010

Breaking the Monotony

Lassitude. Noun. Defined as the weariness of body or mind from strain, lack of energy and a condition of indolent indifference.

As I lay in bed in sleepy languor, I can see the sun glimpsing through the corners of my window... slowly permeating the room with phosphorescent promises. For the last couple of years or so it seems, I anatomically acknowledge this – I open my eyes mechanically and go about daily routines without much to hope for. It had been my idiosyncratic existence that reciprocates and acts as my propellant. My actions were never based on hopes and dreams but on trepidations and an endless list of decorous obligations.

Fear had been my greatest adversary and I had to give up emblazoned dreams to exist where it's safe – my black and white world where docility and obedience were expected.

I have been waking up in a foreign land for the longest time now, where everything is now familiar yet perplexing. The only difference would be the manifestation of new choices. The realization that breaking free from the manacles that had me bound would entirely be up to me.

It is still that indistinguishable daybreak that I respond to. The same twilight that has me closing my eyes and visualizing what appears to be impossible yet eugenically feasible. The same eventide that has me conceiving visions of the man I never thought I would be with but whose hands now hold my very core.

I traded everything that is black and white for something erubescent. I traded consternation for love. I turned my back on what everyone familiar saw as scrupulously acceptable to be with my inamorato. My beloved.

'Tis the end of a monotonous cycle that I have fondly called my life for the longest time. I am loved. I am in love. My mornings are now intertwined with a pleasantly curious panorama – with him and me and the rest of our lives together smack in the middle of it all.