Three minutes until three in the morning and I have early class in a few hours but here I am, spending my time on what I do best: inspiration. I decided to shed a new light first and foremost in my external surroundings, aka my room since it’s where I am most and printed cut out inspirational block quotes and words. I need a change within me and plenty of people usually say that it begins inside but trust me, sometimes having an outside influence helps a ton.
It looks a bit messy but it is art nonetheless. Every single day before I leave the door for daily life, I’ll be struck by the bright colorful cubes of remarks to remind me of the kind of person and the kind of life I can have. Like a friend said, “work on yourself; time will pass by that before you know it, you’re already there– the exact point you wanted to be months ago but never dreamed of reaching.” It begins with an act. And ultimately I realized that it has to begin with me.
Majority of the days I spend lying in bed, crying myself to sleep or fantasizing about better conditions; situations I actually want to find myself in. Little did I realize that I have an entire other life in my head and the actual one I am living is dissipating into concrete waste. Back when I was bright, I had a strong sense of control where I would stop myself from getting worse– the voice that screamed “don’t do that to yourself”; I guess I was my own guardian angel.
Now I’m my own little devil and I’m struggling back to grace, and then I realize that maybe grace has been reaching out for me all this time. Moments when I feel soft knocks in my soul, somebody asking to come in, to let Him take the wheel of what I’ve become and drive me to safety. I hope the knocker never tires for I’m about to budge soon. Do a full on U-Turn as long as I’m moving. I guess all this time, all I’ve really been doing is wait. But it’s time to move. I’ve been waiting for a push or pull somewhere but nothing has come and I’m exhausted on standing by, the dawn burning out. Where is the sense in waiting if I don’t know what I’m waiting on? Where is the sense in being if I can’t be me in my fullest most authentic potential? It’s time I got there.
Yesterday morning I wrote the words “Beat the odds” on the palm of my hands. Beat the odds. Three short, simple but powerful words that affects my core. When I feel like giving up and losing hope, when I want to lash out and scream at people I hate, people who have it better than me, people who are blessed to the point that I don’t feel blessed anymore. God, I used to feel like the most blessed person in the world. What happened to that? When I feel stupid and insecure because people put me down, stereotype me before getting to know me so I don’t even get a chance, no kind of love and I just want to crash and burn, crash and burn because they make me think I deserve it, I’ll say it out loud: Beat the odds. It is more than its self– it’s an entire battle cry. A chance, a shot that rises to the sky when you thought all hope was lost: Beat the odds. To be that one in a million; to stand upright even when all of me buckles under the load of resentment: Beat the odds. To do my best when I am certain the result won’t change: Beat the odds. To not give in to all the hatred that fills my brain, the evil eye that skims upon perfection, the irritation that bubbles up at all I lack: Beat the odds.
Prepare your armor, keep your head sane and your heart closer–it is a fight for freedom already on the losing side but here we go again: You will beat the odds.