I welcome every day as the
dawn of new opportunities. New
opportunity
for
self-advancement, self-appraisal, to reveal my innermost self unto
my conscience but most importantly to win an ever raging war against
passing judgement on the
weak often without trial. Even as i march forward
in valour to conquer this hydra headed monster, the end is not in
sight. The horizon is indifferent and leaves me expressionless. Then with
the turn of every moment, the trials are repeated and the weak are
forged a new identity and destiny. I remember my resolve to win with a
dramatic finality but in truth, i always end up adorned with that same garb
of a witness. And then, my cock will crow its'' third. I was fed from the cradle with the litany of the evil of what the weak
do and why i should be
strong. Their beacon of strength is the eyes
that shut back tears even if i stand by the grave side of my mother. It
initiates me into that old order of the strong whose birth right it is to
judge the weak. Giving me the opportunity to judge him who cries for a
lost fortune as a weakling. And for he who agitates for equal right
and justice, i look in the face and ask what happened to that saying that
all animals are equal but some are more equal than the others. But
then, there are those whose right to judge the weak start from my position
of strength because unlike me who has but a fistful of dollars, they
posses the power to say who lives or dies.
Then i ask myself "am i justified by my awareness alone or should there
be a concerted and sustained effort to chart a new route to my
destination?". My destination, i am no longer too sure of but for certain and
as judged by the higher and mightier, my strength transmutes to
weakness. And in my desperate grasp for self assurance, i condescend to
calling some others the weak. May be it soothes my ego. May be it makes me
feel better. But when the darkness of the night heeds the voice of
morning, i am once again faced with what opportunities that lie ahead.
I welcome every morning as the dawn of new opportunities. An
opportunity to look into my crystal ball with a view to influencing my
perspective but all is futility. Yet i know it and i know it very well that in
vanity, no one gains rather everyone loses. On the alter of choice, a
sacrifice has to be made and if truth ought to be told, my opaque or clear
decision lies in my innermost desire of what is to be perceived of of;
one of the respected and revered strong or one of the despised and
down trodden weak.
In the onward motion of irreversible succession of days, i am time
after time confronted with the choice i make of my opportunities. Should i
speak of equity when it is an entrenched world view that the weak do
not dictate the pace of anything worthwhile or otherwise? He has the
right and wants to be heard but who wants to listen to the weak? And when
again the key of opportunity opens the door of my conscience, my
strength is called to question. Is my strength strong enough to accept the
fact that my weakness is triumphant in my intra personal war of what i
make of my daily opportunities? Judge not and you shall not be judged but
since i cannot be the object of my self-advancement, my sin is not just
that of a witness but being adorned with the garb of a judge of the
weak. Otherwise, how would i know that i have arrived and how would they
know that they are the weak. Yet in my
confusion, i still resolve not
to judge. I am man.
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