My legs have never been completely flawless ever since I started riding on my own. Either with bicycle or motorcycle. The worst scar was brought to me in an accident almost 6 months ago, until now it never stops hurting whenever I stumble into something or press it with my finger. I was riding behind my father, then suddenly two front bikers bumped into each other and my father did not manage to stop his bike. We fell on the ground whilst the bike crushed me on my legs. We left the scene quickly despite the gushing wound hidden under my leggings, I meant to keep it secret from him and the other members. However, I burst right after I got to my room, so awfully painful that I wrecked my voice when I notified my second sister.
Plus the traumatized problem has always existed, I felt even more stressful to talk to my family. And today, my teacher changed our writing subject from "Future dream" to "My family", now I am totally messed up with what to write about. "家族が大好きなのを書いておいてください" "Write that you really love your family." Well excuse me, do I really? Even my future dream, was to fly away from them.
Apart from the unexpected scar, I also have several bruises on my legs, they repeated usually one after another, because of my riding position I guess. I sometimes fell off by myself, and reconstructed things by myself either. That is the reason why I am so used to those bruises, wounds and scars. I love wearing skirt, which requires you to have nice legs of course, but my situation does not allow me. However, would you even care once you are so determined to? So I bought lacy pairs of socks, and problem was solved. With bruises are still there, it is no longer a real matter to me.
Although for some moments, when I am totally unclothed and I look at those traces, an acerbic taste would bestrew my throat. Yet I am helpless to prevent it from happening. All I have done is just learn to accept that they are who I am, what I chose, and how I am existing in this whole wonderful world. The struggle within would be desperately worse, however, isn't it so great when we can overpower our instinct instead of leaning on it? The price for it is an enormous extent of pain we would have to suffer through for a while as well. I continuously write about it as if I am falling down or surrendering, nonetheless, after all I have been winning against it. This may sound insane that I hope to know the feeling of giving up, for example stopping opening my eyes when the alarm goes off, diving my head to the bottom of the pool as long as possible until my respiratory system cuts down on function, falling off the stairs when I am so tired to walk on my feet,... Maybe it's not time yet. Or maybe I should go at a place people have no idea about, silently lying down on the ground and secretly lock my eyes for ever after.
Still I am grateful for things which have kept me head on.
I think I have chosen solitude, however occasionally it turns into loneliness. There would be a period when I am craving for warmth so much, craving for someone to spoil me by their suavity, craving for being loved. I hate giving hope to myself, so yes I hate the feeling of craving for something. You know, it is just tons of things are running in my head, dashing over and over again to confuse my already-blurred sight. It feels like a flickering ceiling light that the owner forgot to fix or he did not fix it completely, then gradually he got used to the sudden brightness and darkness without wanting to make it function properly as it should have done.
I am going through a tunnel which I think to be my exit, where it would let me to for now I have no clue. It is not about guessing which one is right anymore, but to decide to take action or stay still and nestle in fearful illusion. There would always be little beams in the shadow and vice versa, so who knows there would be the proper escapes led by the improper entrances. I am walking my own path and living my own life albeit the unstoppable twists and turns of this world, whatever.
As I said, would you even care once you are determined to do?
Photo credit: my own taken photos
