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I Am The Mighty:
I remember this tale, from a time of brutality; from whence I would have gladly murdered a soul. For the fragile seek to transcend their pain, but ever are they poisoned by it.
This man I remember had called himself ‘Mighty’ and I watched from the stands as he delivered his speech. “You are the fools!” he cried to the audience, “for even as you mock me, I am whole. Through tragedies I've suffered, through pain I persevered. I am a greater man and your words may never hurt me.”
Fool, is what I thought, for he seemed to take pride in this display. The crowd cheered him on, patting him on the back, but to me he lacked conviction. For I saw through the sham in his boast and I knew that his demons would haunt him again. This time a little earlier than needed.
“Yes my friends, I am a damaged man. I have been broken before and my spirit shattered,” he continued to ramble, as I drew close to him. “You too can be better, you too can overcome this pain. Together we can achieve!”
“Lies,” I spat, from the front of the crowd. “You might pretend that you are better; baying your worthless pain to the crowd. Some of them might even spare you a coin, but once you walk away from that, what are you?”
“Well, I am a bet-”
“You are nothing!” I hissed, interrupting him. My anger had gotten the better of me and I sought only to knock him down. “I know you like I know myself and you are the same individual spouting self-deceiving lies.”
He spluttered and tried to speak but I would not yield him the chance. “Remember what you really are, because what you show these people is but a glorified figment. Let’s be realistic, ‘friend’. After you leave here, after the adoring praise of the crowd has vanished. Again you’ll crawl back to your sorry little hole and wallow, you’ll wallow, in the depths of the insecurities that choke you from the shadows.”
“What then I wonder?” I asked with a mocking expression as I leaned toward him. “Will you finally accept that you are a worthless nothing? Or will you come out here again tomorrow and spew some nonsense about how you are ‘high and mighty’.”
“Look upon me my friends,” I said, mimicking his actions and tone. “For I am the worthless dreg of society, kicked around and now partially recovered. Yes, I have enough of my sanity to know that my horrid prattle about overcoming difficulties is enough to win your votes. You are stupid and so am I, for you will all lap this up like a pack of brainless dogs!”
The crowd stood stunned, most angry. They would have liked to have beaten me; they would have liked to have stoned me. Yet their limbs remained immobilized by the weight of truth itself.
Lie to yourself that you might overcome. Lie to yourself as much as you wish. But make that lie public, in a display of self-deluding ‘valor’ and it becomes so easy to send you back into the hole…
- Chen Yuan Wen, 10th August 2013
I remember this tale, from a time of brutality; from whence I would have gladly murdered a soul. For the fragile seek to transcend their pain, but ever are they poisoned by it.
This man I remember had called himself ‘Mighty’ and I watched from the stands as he delivered his speech. “You are the fools!” he cried to the audience, “for even as you mock me, I am whole. Through tragedies I've suffered, through pain I persevered. I am a greater man and your words may never hurt me.”
Fool, is what I thought, for he seemed to take pride in this display. The crowd cheered him on, patting him on the back, but to me he lacked conviction. For I saw through the sham in his boast and I knew that his demons would haunt him again. This time a little earlier than needed.
“Yes my friends, I am a damaged man. I have been broken before and my spirit shattered,” he continued to ramble, as I drew close to him. “You too can be better, you too can overcome this pain. Together we can achieve!”
“Lies,” I spat, from the front of the crowd. “You might pretend that you are better; baying your worthless pain to the crowd. Some of them might even spare you a coin, but once you walk away from that, what are you?”
“Well, I am a bet-”
“You are nothing!” I hissed, interrupting him. My anger had gotten the better of me and I sought only to knock him down. “I know you like I know myself and you are the same individual spouting self-deceiving lies.”
He spluttered and tried to speak but I would not yield him the chance. “Remember what you really are, because what you show these people is but a glorified figment. Let’s be realistic, ‘friend’. After you leave here, after the adoring praise of the crowd has vanished. Again you’ll crawl back to your sorry little hole and wallow, you’ll wallow, in the depths of the insecurities that choke you from the shadows.”
“What then I wonder?” I asked with a mocking expression as I leaned toward him. “Will you finally accept that you are a worthless nothing? Or will you come out here again tomorrow and spew some nonsense about how you are ‘high and mighty’.”
“Look upon me my friends,” I said, mimicking his actions and tone. “For I am the worthless dreg of society, kicked around and now partially recovered. Yes, I have enough of my sanity to know that my horrid prattle about overcoming difficulties is enough to win your votes. You are stupid and so am I, for you will all lap this up like a pack of brainless dogs!”
The crowd stood stunned, most angry. They would have liked to have beaten me; they would have liked to have stoned me. Yet their limbs remained immobilized by the weight of truth itself.
Lie to yourself that you might overcome. Lie to yourself as much as you wish. But make that lie public, in a display of self-deluding ‘valor’ and it becomes so easy to send you back into the hole…
- Chen Yuan Wen, 10th August 2013
Literature
You Don't Know Your Daughter At All
Just because she is no longer in a cradle
Does not mean that your baby wont fall
And if you think that her smile means she is happy
Then you don’t know your daughter at all
On arriving home from school she runs up the stairs
And locks herself away in her room
It’s so easy to think that it’s just teenage angst
That will pass in time and be gone soon
Perhaps you assume that it is just boy trouble
A romance that will soon be forgot
Yes, maybe her problems are just a passing phase
But then again what if they are not
What if they’re deep rooted in the parental soil
That you’ve been failing to cultivate
As she grow
Literature
Blanking Out The Bad Days
I don’t like to keep blanking out the bad thoughts
As this means missing out on whole days
In fact weeks, months and years are passing me by
Which tells me this is not just a phase
But that’s not what my loved ones like to believe
They tell me it’s my age and will soon pass
Their turpentine optimism is misplaced
As my future begins to fade like brass
I don’t like to keep blanking out the bad days
But of late I do not have much choice
See anytime someone asks if I’m okay
A tremble can be heard in my voice
Somehow though I always keep it together
Like a jigsaw laid out on a table
But when I am alone I fall to pi
Literature
The Right Hand Curse Reversed
Everything that my right hand has ever written
Comes from the heart and mind of a boy that is cursed
So from now on I’ll learn to write with my left hand
In hope not expectation that this curse will be reversed
And then I shall sit in front of an open fire
Unflinching as each flame licks closer to my face
Not close enough though so it could swallow me whole
But just close enough so that it can have a taste
Of the beads of regret in my perspiration
That are forming and rolling down my furrowed brow
From a wildfire mind that is now out of control
Come thoughts that these damp morals fail to disallow
Everything that my right hand has ev
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Author's Comment:
Arrr,
What can I say, there were times when I was a very evil man. In any case, the crux of this piece is rather simple.
You can tell yourself you've gotten over something; but it's pretty obvious to those who see you constantly mentioning the same things that you really haven't gotten over it at all. Now, I'm all for using writing as a way of expressin' your past and your pain. It's normal! However if you're constantly writing about the same issues, but continue to write that you've gotten better or have forgotten them. Weeeeelll I hate t' break it to ya, but you haven't gotten over them at all.
Indeed, it's like going out with someone and constantly talking about your ex. That kind of thing proves that they're still in your mind and if you keep beating the same old horse then it's rather easy for someone to just step in and rip you apart.
What can I say, people tend to do evil things for no reason...
-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates
Want to support me further?:
- Like my facebook page: www.facebook.com/WordOfChen
- Donate some points to my DA: Each point is a single cent and I'm very thankful for that ^^
Author's Comment:
Arrr,
What can I say, there were times when I was a very evil man. In any case, the crux of this piece is rather simple.
You can tell yourself you've gotten over something; but it's pretty obvious to those who see you constantly mentioning the same things that you really haven't gotten over it at all. Now, I'm all for using writing as a way of expressin' your past and your pain. It's normal! However if you're constantly writing about the same issues, but continue to write that you've gotten better or have forgotten them. Weeeeelll I hate t' break it to ya, but you haven't gotten over them at all.
Indeed, it's like going out with someone and constantly talking about your ex. That kind of thing proves that they're still in your mind and if you keep beating the same old horse then it's rather easy for someone to just step in and rip you apart.
What can I say, people tend to do evil things for no reason...
-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates
Want to support me further?:
- Like my facebook page: www.facebook.com/WordOfChen
- Donate some points to my DA: Each point is a single cent and I'm very thankful for that ^^
© 2013 - 2024 WordOfChen
Comments22
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yowza!! and I thought I had a way with words if I ever felt the need to rip someone a new one...you would put me to shame man!! lol