Staring at the wall....

Ever since I started university one thing kept me going despite all odds. It was a piece of paper with words on it stuck to my notice board. The words eased my pain when I felt lonely; soothed my soul at times of grief; brought a smile at joyous moments. All in all, reading those words made me feel better even for a second, and accept things as they are. I'm not saying that others have it easy, but how a situation impacts one person is not replicated in the exact way to another.

Looking back now, after more than 3 years, I have managed to stick it out on my own. While I reminisce about the times gone by, many of them were challenges. The good times were a handful, but how I cherish them and hold it all close to my heart. Being mentally strong and able to absorb all that came your way is not a piece of cake. Many are the instances in which I felt like giving up and throwing in the towel, but I persevered. I told myself that I would somehow make it on my own, stand on my own feet, be independent. The concept of independence is very vague and obscure, believe me I have experienced my fair share of it. In reality, no one is independent. The only One really independent is God.

Inspiration can be derived from a vast space of knowledge, which is not constricted by time. It reaches on to infinity, seemingly endless and uncountable. I draw energy from the words of this woman. A woman after my own heart who says it straight without beating behind the bush.

Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.