You claim to speak positivity, you claim to understand what I feel. Do you really?. Your arrogance makes my hungry stomach cringe, these pangs I get are not because of the emptiness. It is because of how I loathe those of your making. You tell me what to do, how to behave but if tables were turned would you tell yourself that? You tell me trivialities whilst I am in need of true sustenance. Do you even know this soul you tell how to live, if it needs or has had any worthy enrichment. This stomach that needs to accommodate medication to survive, does it have food? Do you guarantee me of a livelihood, I ask of you to stop it!!!
Your words do not heal me, they destroy every living fibre of my being. Your words go straight to my heart like a ruthless knife, your words bring tears to my eyes. For they look at me and they despise me, your pride and pompousness I surely wish for your sake sustains you. I wish that when this reality hits home one day you shall be able to reflect and remember all the ridiculous statements your mouth uttered.
Why is it that the word stigma is stigmatised? Why does this chronic illness receive such overwhelming acknowledging? Why do you not find ways to help to end this chronic illness, rather than continue this friendly torture. You come to me on my death bed, and I see that hopelessness in your eyes. All you can get out of that sorry mouth is that '"You will be ok". I will be ok??? I will never be ok, you know that. I will never be ok to fit into this cruel world with mere mortals. Perhaps I will be ok for when I am with my Creator.
You leave and take a phone and talk to whomever wishes to listen, as you gossip and rejoice about my prognosis. As you plan your outfits to put me to rest. As you tell me of your plans to buy a car, perhaps if you sat and asked me what my plans were. You wold take your time to make them real, perhaps my only plan is to have a fancy meal. Pehaps that could happen if I was not bed ridden, if I did not have this thrush, if I did not have shingles, if my body was not sore, if my legs and joints were not swollen, if my complexion had not turned this pale beyond comprehension.
Perhaps I could do with that walk that you take for granted, for you complain of how hot the sun is, and you want to jump into bed and rest. I DO NOT want to lie in this bed anymore, I even have bed sores as proof of this painful journey. I want the beauty of this world as I knew it, I want to smell the harvests, smell the aroma of the rain, smell the blazing of the sun, but I can not because I am bed ridden.
You ask me if I had anything to eat? Hello!!! eat!!! I do not need to eat, all I want is to walk out of these shackles. All I want is to see myself proclaim that I am healed, that my brother is healed, that we all are healed. Suddenly a thought strikes me!!! YES I AM HEALED!!!, for am on my way to meet my Maker. HE provides sustenance and is in control of my being. HE will welcome me in HIS throne for we all mortals are part of HIS creation, and in HIS eyes we all are equal.
Perhaps I was not created to enjoy the luxuries of this world, perhaps I like all mortals was created for a purpose. Do I have enough breaths to realise what that which I was created for is? Do I not just spend these last moments to pack my bags neatly and properly, so that when I take this final journey all I need will be in there.
I say this as I am sitting and watching my life, as I knew it - flash in front of my eyes. I thank The Almighty for having given me the strength to accept that which, has been planned for me before my conception. I have no regrets for being born the way I am, but perhaps what I could tell the world is that, if only my parents (for I am not pointing fingers) would have done taken precautionary measures, perhaps this innocent soul would not be experiencing what it is!!!
If only they had remembered that there is a possibility of infection, perhaps I would not be in this frail state that I am at. Perhaps my body would look like that of the other 10 year olds, but you look at me lying still you think I am 4 years old. This chronic disease has devoured my body, I still dreamt of growing up to being an adult. I still dreamt of making it beyond the rainbows, I have made it finally beyond the rainbows. I am at peace and am singing and dancing with the angels. YES I ask of you to please mean what you say for once!!!!
by Mamohale Moloi Dimema on Tuesday, 01 December 2009 at 09:27
Your words do not heal me, they destroy every living fibre of my being. Your words go straight to my heart like a ruthless knife, your words bring tears to my eyes. For they look at me and they despise me, your pride and pompousness I surely wish for your sake sustains you. I wish that when this reality hits home one day you shall be able to reflect and remember all the ridiculous statements your mouth uttered.
Why is it that the word stigma is stigmatised? Why does this chronic illness receive such overwhelming acknowledging? Why do you not find ways to help to end this chronic illness, rather than continue this friendly torture. You come to me on my death bed, and I see that hopelessness in your eyes. All you can get out of that sorry mouth is that '"You will be ok". I will be ok??? I will never be ok, you know that. I will never be ok to fit into this cruel world with mere mortals. Perhaps I will be ok for when I am with my Creator.
You leave and take a phone and talk to whomever wishes to listen, as you gossip and rejoice about my prognosis. As you plan your outfits to put me to rest. As you tell me of your plans to buy a car, perhaps if you sat and asked me what my plans were. You wold take your time to make them real, perhaps my only plan is to have a fancy meal. Pehaps that could happen if I was not bed ridden, if I did not have this thrush, if I did not have shingles, if my body was not sore, if my legs and joints were not swollen, if my complexion had not turned this pale beyond comprehension.
Perhaps I could do with that walk that you take for granted, for you complain of how hot the sun is, and you want to jump into bed and rest. I DO NOT want to lie in this bed anymore, I even have bed sores as proof of this painful journey. I want the beauty of this world as I knew it, I want to smell the harvests, smell the aroma of the rain, smell the blazing of the sun, but I can not because I am bed ridden.
You ask me if I had anything to eat? Hello!!! eat!!! I do not need to eat, all I want is to walk out of these shackles. All I want is to see myself proclaim that I am healed, that my brother is healed, that we all are healed. Suddenly a thought strikes me!!! YES I AM HEALED!!!, for am on my way to meet my Maker. HE provides sustenance and is in control of my being. HE will welcome me in HIS throne for we all mortals are part of HIS creation, and in HIS eyes we all are equal.
Perhaps I was not created to enjoy the luxuries of this world, perhaps I like all mortals was created for a purpose. Do I have enough breaths to realise what that which I was created for is? Do I not just spend these last moments to pack my bags neatly and properly, so that when I take this final journey all I need will be in there.
I say this as I am sitting and watching my life, as I knew it - flash in front of my eyes. I thank The Almighty for having given me the strength to accept that which, has been planned for me before my conception. I have no regrets for being born the way I am, but perhaps what I could tell the world is that, if only my parents (for I am not pointing fingers) would have done taken precautionary measures, perhaps this innocent soul would not be experiencing what it is!!!
If only they had remembered that there is a possibility of infection, perhaps I would not be in this frail state that I am at. Perhaps my body would look like that of the other 10 year olds, but you look at me lying still you think I am 4 years old. This chronic disease has devoured my body, I still dreamt of growing up to being an adult. I still dreamt of making it beyond the rainbows, I have made it finally beyond the rainbows. I am at peace and am singing and dancing with the angels. YES I ask of you to please mean what you say for once!!!!
by Mamohale Moloi Dimema on Tuesday, 01 December 2009 at 09:27
