Blinkers and Me


I'm tired.



I don't know… whatever.

I feel like a horse with blinkers on

Running blindly in whichever direction I'm pointed in

Breathing, heaving, striving

Tugged at by those relentless


To face there there

Completely engrossed in that destination

And nothing else


I have had blinkers on my whole life.


Some time later:


My cousin asked what I consider living. I said school and the things we learn, and the opportunities we get, now and when we grow up. – It's to be able to see beauty in the world. That's living.


He looked at me, and I smiled at him from underneath my blinkers.




Is it?


Sometimes I feel so rushed

So overwhelmed like someone stuffed a big fur coat down my throat


And I can't breathe.

And yet –

"Aren't they doing excellently? You're 15, you're no longer young. Why can't you?"

Sometimes I feel as if childhood slipped by so fast

You know?

Why wasn't I given a proper childhood? When I think of mine, I think of school.

Nursery – kindergarten – primary school. And then little flashes of me doing childhood things in between.

Is that what normal childhoods are like?


Half of me kind of wishes that I could just skip this whole thing… and grow up.

But that clashes with the other half

That's still reaching back for

When I was younger, doesn't it?


I smile wryly, and leave this open-ended.