Finally, I have decided to listen to the voice that has been whispering in wrath, demanding my presence to the world. The voice told me that it has gotten impatient with my hiding. Apparently, it has sent people to talk sense to me. All I can remember is my elders repeating the same words in different tones and styles. “Go out. Be like other kids. Do something meaningful with your life. Find purpose. Just do something.” In all that, I was never given a chance to ask my questions. I had questions. I still do. I was just told to follow the lead.

Well, isolating myself was not helping either. Each day that passed left me with tons of questions. It left my mind with a battle of thoughts. Each question that came triggered another question. I was at peace, but my mind never had silence, there was always war. I guess going out is what I needed. Being like other kids. Doing something meaningful in my life. Finding purpose. Doing something. Maybe the answers to all my questions are outside my comfort zone.

I am here. Outside. In the presence of the world, I call it the corridors of our time. Where a secret voice summoned my attention. I thought this was a good space. Positive energy. A different vibe. But my soul is not pleased by what I am seeing. My body is developing goose bumps very rapidly. My heartbeat is rising at an unpleasing rate. My temperature is rising, I cannot take this. Is this what everyone called me for? Is this going out? Is this the definition of being like other kids? What is the meaning in all this? Is this the purpose I was told to find? Or there is more than what meets the eye?

I see moving bodies. Bodies of all kind. I really do not know what they are doing. My guess is, they all came to find themselves. I have noted one thing though, the expressions on their faces. There is something about it. I cannot put my fingers on it, but there is something written on it. I want to blame someone for this. But who? Me? The voice? The elders? I do not know, but there must be a lamb for the sacrifice. This is not life. This is not healthy. Everything here is happening too fast. Just when my mind is trying to process new scenes, a new scandal is out and eventually, everyone has moved on. They say this is life, it is either you pick up, or you get left behind.

Going deeper into the corridors, I found shocking discoveries. I knew it. Something was not adding about these faces. They are young people who were told the same thing. They were shoved to the face of the world. They were never prepared for this era. “Be like other kids”, they were told. They are now suffering. Some are depressed. Some faking it. A friend told them about a saying that goes “fake it till you make it.” Some have become slaves of intoxicating substances. And some are freelancers to this life – they take it as it comes. Even those that seem to be happy are known to be regulars at the local pharmacy. Rumours have it that they get their sleeping pills there. One tries to take the stand with the hope of providing help for the defeated, but everyone here lacks trust, and they just shut her out. How do you trust a stranger with your life? They all agree, but I thought that was a question.

How am I expected to survive this space when my questions we not answered? How am I going to find peace of mind when this place is causing wars in my body? Now my whole being has become a battleground. How am I expected to do something meaningful with my life when I was told to be like others? What happened to being different? Do I join them? Do I take my own lead? A different part? Do I defy the ways of my elders and the voice? How do I find my purpose when I was just told to go and do something, but no one was specific? I guess it is all in my hands now. I have two options, one; to go back to my hiding place and die from my thoughts or two; I join in but this time I take the lead and write the story of my life. With each day as a page that I get to scripture the life that I want and only have myself to blame for all the pages I would wish to erase.