Roughly dilapidated

Juliana Sayão Domingues Clark, 2013. 

Like a dilapidated diamond, I am a conjoint of small polished surfaces.

Fifty eight facets, fifty eight sides represent the fractions of personality I am aware I possess.

The fractions are uneven, contradictory, pointing in different directions, but they never annul themselves.

Their edges were cut, trying to masquerade the roughness of the original stone.

The roughness that was born with me, and in me still lies.

The roughness that are implied in all my statements, in my journey, in myself, especially when nobody knows or tries to see.

The roughness that I touch convulsively and I conceal within me.

The roughness only I know.

Me and my facets, we all talk.

We talk about love, marriage and babies.

We talk about life, and death. About the birds, the skies, the dogs, my dogs.

We pronunciate words without real meaning, except for the ones we signify ourselves. We create our own language from zero, from our roughness.

We disagree. Argue. Fight.

We incite the suicide of ourselves, aiming to become one homogeneous block.

I urge to unite, to be coherent.

I need to kill the dissonance in me.

I need to control the many “me’s” in me, though I am tired of fighting myself.

I am tired of fighting myself and my roughness and my language.

I need to accept what I am.

I am the nurturer of my dreams and agonies.

The ultimate gardener of my own anxieties.

The unity within the caos.

I am the meaning of all the sentences that rush through my brain and scape through my mouth. I am the intent within the act of saying and writing.

I am the conscience behind the roughness.

The complexity within the order.

I am the thesis, the antithesis and, finally,  the synthesis.

I am.


One thought on “Roughly dilapidated

  1. Pingback: Weekly Writing Challenge: A Pinch of You – Life Guideline | flow of my soul

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