The small figure tried to stand tall. His feet tremble, his body shivers, his lips frozen. He utters no word for he is the martyr chosen by the soil. Fate crept in his back, winter brews in his left fist, and he holds the light of summer in his right palm. Upon the puny man, his adversary roared. The crimson scale, wings filled the sky, flame blazes from its claw, tongue sharp as blades, yellow eyes bring incomparable terror.
The humongous beast marching slowly but sure, the man steps forward to his demise. There is no honor, there is no promised victory, it’s a losing game. Know that, the man is us, all of us every day, facing life’s greatest living-weapon. Time. It’s monstrosity, it’s cruelty, it’s injustice. We are all in the same story together. David versus goliath, hercules versus the gods, humanity against time. A game we are not supposed to win.
And so we say goodbye to yet another year. We take another step towards the beast. The beast that has been with us all along, it takes so much from us, with or without us knowing. While we are beings of heart, empathy and feelings, it is the exact opposite. It gives no mercy nor second chance, It ripped us off things we hold dear when we least expect it, it gives just to take back, it lurks closer than our veins, it brings upon tragedy without remorse.
And yet, Time brings beauty, time is the only reason why everything we ever have is meaningful. It’s heartlessness makes us understand the meaning of miracle. It’s limit tells us to appreciate what we have, and time, despite it’s savagery, let us heal from any kind of pain we befell to us. Time is irony in it’s purest form. It gives only to take. It erase to provide another chance. It kills so we know how to live.
So I greet you, my marching beast. If you are upon my door, I shall fight you yet again. Some days I lost, the others I win. The war has always been yours to win, but I will try to enjoy the battles I could win. One step at a time, that is how we all can survive. Because in those stories we’re in. There’s always the killing pebble, there’s always chores we can accomplish, there is always a way to enjoy the losing game.
Happy new year, folks!