Written by Xavier Serrano
My mind is a black hole absorbing the good, the bad, and the sad. My mind is a beautiful garden, new flowers blossom but the storm never stops. The rain pours and the flowers drown. The flowers die. The fields dry up but I walk through the garden. The flowers are withered and dead. Are these my thoughts? Dead and wilted? I run my hands through the flowers; pulling the petals and dropping tears. The tears bring my wilted flower back to life. It’s dancing, the flower is dancing. Perhaps this is my fate. The flowers lay dormant except the one dancing.
Here comes the black hole again.
“ Am I good enough?” is a question that resurfaces in my head whether I am at school, in the woods taking a toke from my bowl, before bed, or whenever. At every waking moment, I can feel the question simmering at the back of my cerebellum. I’m surrounded by people I admire, each of them with their own goals and aspirations and I sit here wondering if I am as capable as they are. I’ve met such wonderful people and made friends, surely I’ve done something right?.. Truth be told, I don’t know a damn thing. No one knows that I go about my everyday life tearing myself apart to understand why I am the way that I am. Why would I tell anyone? To receive feedback? Feedback that I won’t apply to my own experiences? I am just another living thing on this planet, surely enough I’ll be gone, but before I go, I’d like to at least ascend with the understanding of what it feels like to be adequate. As I grew older, I noticed that material possessions only satisfied my desires temporarily and I was left with the feeling of lack. Moments where I was the center of attention, the coolest one in the room are memories that are blurry for me because that feeling of validation was something I didn’t really get growing up. Did that affect my development as a person? Maybe it did. Is that why I go the extra mile to put a smile on people’s faces? Is that the reason why I psychoanalyze people who cross my line of path? Is that why I am never truly satisfied with my own achievements? All of my life I’ve had people smile in my face and praise me and at times I didn’t know how to take it, as a young man, I take those compliments and I replay them in my head when I am alone while I cry. It feels good to be appreciated, loved, and cared for. I really do hope to one day know that I am enough but until then, I ash my bowl and I wait for the black hole to return.
