I know the whale crossed the ocean so he can get to the other tide, and I mean tide, not side, we all know that for a fact. Maybe the tide is higher on the other side, and the whale wants to be as close to the shore as possible because it had been his biggest dream to build a sand castle, a giant sand castle that is. I don’t like that whale to be honest. But why did the chicken cross the road? That I really don’t know. I lied. Actually, I do, at least for this chicken I know not the chicken riddle that’s been floating out there for centuries. Once upon a time, there was a young, brave curious chicken we’ll call Sky, who was the strangest bird among the flock. He was completely strange in more ways than one. Or maybe that’s too much. No, Sky was just a cut above the rest, and I am not putting him up to the pedestal and the rest on the pavement by saying this, on the contrary, he is being looked down by many and he is being circled out. Nevertheless, he tried to be as nice and as tolerating as possible when others are looking down at him like piece of rock-rough, cold, and empty. But here’s the harder part though-he needs to act as normal as others which means crossing out his real self and packaging himself with all these fake labels the space inside the circle demands if he were to keep his post-free from scars and scorns. And if this thought would not make you feel sad and sorry, then I don’t know what will. Norms. Labels. I hate f*ckin’ labels like all f*ckin’ time. And oh I am allergic to labels more than I am allergic to cinnamon, like honestly. How did I know? I just know for sure. Cinnamon sends me to countless trips to the rest room, throwing up halfway through the throne and leaving me swallowing an ounce of my own humiliation. Labels, on the other hand, cramp my reason, tighten my chest until I can’t breathe, and kill every fiber of my heart and even a handful of antihistamine will not stop the pain and it just won’t. Sky must have felt the same way.
Roll out the film and the story goes. Sky was hurting so much and barely existing in the world he did not seem to belong but what can he do? He was just an average joe and not a superhero. He sure had wings but his wings were only meant for flapping and not for flying. Sky had been wondering what it would have been like being on the other side but he kept on ignoring this thought despite his mental rebellion. Maybe it was better on the other side. Maybe it was a place without lines that divide, no words that haunts his mind echoing “ Go home, you’re in the wrong club,” and no doors that slam. But maybe it was worth staying. He wanted to belong no matter how sick the place was. Until one day, when things got extremely stiff and unbearable, Sky decided to cross the road. It was a beautiful day. The horizon was as blue as his feelings and it was a beautiful day indeed. The bees were humming, the sparrows were singing, and the daffodils are dancing with the wind. Sky shook off everything-grudges, fears, worries, everything, and started the first hardest stride of his life, and then the second, and the third and the fourth, away from the giant box where he had been placed and labelled like a bottle of aspirin. He was way more than that. The other side of the road looks so promising, and Sky couldn’t wait to set his feet on the new land, it must be very liberating he imagined. However, barely few steps away, some angry screeching tires took his life. Yep. Sky died and it was the saddest death you would imagine because he didn’t just die once, believe me he died so many times at that agonizing moment because it wasn’t just his body which died out, but along it were the death of countless dreams and the end of his hunger for everlasting freedom, acceptance and existence in a place without division-no boxes, no lines, no labels.
I know, I know. This is one sad story, I know. But am not gonna cry or at least am not gonna tell you. But no. It would have broken my heart real worse if Sky made it to the other side of the road because the other side of the road is not the “Promise Land” that he pictured from his wishful thinking, it’s all the same and will forever be and that’s one sad f*ckin’ truth.
**In memory of an old buddy, old pal who I drew robots and wrote porms with, and talk about galaxies and stars and blackholes and infinity and beyond while we’re growing up. F*ck you man, I missed you so bad. But in my heart and mind I know, from the darkest night to the brightest light, I know you’re up there, watching me how I f*ck up my life sometimes lol and one day, someday, I will see you again.I know that will come. I know it in my bones.