𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚜

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Fields of daffodils, shining the sun into rays of happiness on the ground. Yellow ground covers most of what the eye can see, despite the blue of the sky colliding with this paradise. I stand in the centre, looking out at the endlessness of such a phenomenon. It doesn’t matter how I got here. It doesn’t matter how I’ll get out. I’m here right now, isn’t that enough?

Looking out back, past the yellow to the faintest sight of red, I know you’re watching. I can admit I made it further into the joy than you ever would. It was always so clear to us who would make it past the barrier of blood and anger, to walk into a path of optimistic futures and a spring awakening. Your lack of faith was dragging, blinding, contagious.

The forward is treacherous, thorned. I feel hesitant to go on, for what would be the consequences? What would be past that gateway of hellishness and, yet temporary, pain? This refresh in such a palace was made to give me hope, to give me belief that forward was the way. But I still find myself looking back to where I remember seeing you stand, hoping you’d come, make it past your barrier. I know it’s impossible for you.

Maybe if I advance forward, an even greater heaven awaits. I’m aware all pain is temporary, but the same can be said for happiness and joy. The yellow is blinding me, with rays of sun reflecting everywhere. I can’t see forward, but I know it’s unknown. Unknown is the thing most people fear in life. This is what I know now, not what I’ll know if I move on. Everything I’ve ever known will stick to me no matter what I do, like a fly in a spider’s web.

I got here because of the shoulders of those around me who failed to succeed, but granted me enough power to push on. The fight we gave in the cold of the red abyss you sit in now. If you fought harder, you’d be with me. Why can’t you see the amazingness of where I stand now? Why can I only hear you screaming at me to move on? To progress? Change is another thing many hide from. I agree with many people. I know you do too, or else you’d be ready to face it with me right now. You’re neglecting me more and more.

You stand in the pain, facing it as we speak. I stand in a place I can call forever. We are different. You struggle. You feel hate. You antagonise everything but yourself. I am happy, relaxed, and free. Something we’ll never share in common is our progress, for I know no matter how much you tell me to go forward, that much forward is farther than you can imagine. A shallow mind doesn’t allow for change. For the unknown. I have the knowledge of those who’ve helped me and the knowledge of where I’ve been. My mind is deeper than the Atlantic.

I take a step forward. My happiness is coming to an end, but the suffering I feel will only stick around for a short while. I take a step forward. I look back to the wintery red you stand in, past the daffodils. I wonder why you can’t just fight it. I take a step forward. My curiosity turns into anger, my insides getting warmer. This paradise of spring is turning hot. I can’t understand why you don’t just understand. Understand why progressing through the years is the most important thing you can do. You’ll never progress. I’ll make it somewhere.

My refresh is over. As you stand in the cold, I stand in the warmth. But, oh well. We move on. Or at least I will.

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