Bare as a Baby's Bottom

 I removed my apparel and lay them down. These were the woods I stopped by on a snowy evening. Contrary to the others that rested here, I bid adieu to this place with a greater extent of uncertainty, a lost sense of control and a freshly adopted faith. I was stripped naked, with my skin and nails peeled off to lay bare with the loneliness to face who I am, who I was, who I want to be and who I could be. Eyelids taped wide open to face the truth which I conveniently escaped and ignored. Once let lose, the nightmares and day dreams of infinite possibilities never came to an end. That is the power I gained. 

I enjoy my company most of all, the world is an exhausting place and I feed on the opportunities it has to offer. But now I don't want to be offered anything, I want to create. Despite my previous lack of outward worldly experience, my doubts were confirmed. The homo sapien species prefers being part of the herd and fears differentiation, too coward to act they all jump into their own doom together. I joined this herd, only to learn I can never fit in it. Proudly so. The cigarettes I smoked, the alcohol I drank, the sleepless nights I had were all drivers to peacefully lure me out of possibilities of what could and could not be. For it simply is. My cryptic methodology will always persist because that to me is the most nude I can possibly be. 

Sadness has departed my soul and the excitement for the future has awakened an awkward sense of peace. Completions are always satisfying and none has felt more satisfying ad fulfilling as this one. In my world, I am no more in the region of a mediocre population but have now entered the arena of being the best. The best somewhere, somehow even if it is not a place I like. The doors for a successful deviation from a set path have stormed open. I don't walk, I hop. I hop hoping to deviate from this promenade as soon as possible, now sought to do what I desire. This was an attempt to prove that I am capable to survive and thrive in a cut-throat world, waiting for any slot to open up to stomp all over you. My direction will no more have a self burdened guilt of being inept, but will now have a tinge of arrogance and pride, with no burden to have to prove myself.

And finally, the gorgeousness of femininity I unobscured here. A shamelessness and openness so embarrassing that God would curse us for our mannerisms and conversations. My inner intrusive thoughts inspected by these women with an endoscope. A togetherness, sense of belonging and comfort unfound before. It rained pink, purple and wine flowers, it smelled vanilla and strawberry and it tasted blueberry and cinnamony. The one place I can confide in with any information about any corner of my soul and know for a fact it will not be judged, but only given honest opinions, solutions and consolations. 

The background to all of these occurrences were these breathless woods, giving me permanent scars, broken feet and uncountable cyclic fallings. I ran, ran from reality into the depths of the kindness this place had to offer. Woods that planted trees of innocence and killed frogs of insanity and decorated my soul yellow with its spring flowers. My respiratory system was treated and nourished by the winds so I had to neutralize the situation with some cigarettes and weed. 

dear kgp,

i bid thee adieu.

with love,

Noor

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