I remember coming into this world, this home outside of my birthplace. Although, I felt like an assrug for leaving my friends and family behind, I had a purpose to find and I wasn't ashamed about letting myself be taken away.

It's probably an insult to my unique, well woven birth family to admit this but I loved my new family. I brought color and beauty to their lovely home. I did what I was made for. I let them use me as a stepping mat, marking the path that raised them to whatever heights they wished. I absolved their spilled mistakes and took their apologetic cleaning with love and forgiveness.

It was a life well lived and I harboured no hatred for them at all when my work was finished and they needed to replace the ghost of what I used to be. I'd been witness to humans who searched endlessly for their purpose in this life. Some found it but some lost themselves or died before they could fulfill their destiny. I had already fulfilled mine.

There were worst ways to go.

It's cold outside

The chill has sealed the breeze in jars screwed tight

To the shadows the silhouettes doth abide

The lone palm tree is still on this night

And somewhere far away where wishes hide

Are the screaming ghosts of Christmas lights

It's cold outside

The devil chokes on heaven's sighs

he hates the joyful echos, cries of Christmas tide

And loves kids who cry on Santa's thighs

Somewhere far off where mangers reside

Are baby saviours on Godly highs

It's cold outside

Long lay the world in sin and error pinning

Then comes the wise men with gifts beside

So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming

And somewhere far away did God decide

Forever will there be nights spent caroling.

I'm trying, I really am

But there's still that wicked satisfaction I get

From knowing that even after all that

Even after trying so hard

I'd still rather be gone

Than be here.

Some times I just can't breathe.

I mean, I actually go through the motions of taking in air. My chest expands like it should but there must be a leak somewhere because the air never gets where it needs to get.

And I find myself opening my mouth and gasping and just begging that rich burst of oxygen to go where I desperately need it to go.

And it hurts so bad. All these unidentifiable things in my head translating into physical pain. It's not a medical condition. It's all in my head, the loneliness, the gaping hole in my chest but it feels so real.

It makes me feel crazy, like I want to zip down my skin and step out of my body and find myself in a different place.

And some times I reach for my phone and actually make the effort of reaching out to someone, seeking help. But then I send my friend a text and he doesn't reply. Then I stare at my phone for so long. Maybe he went to the bathroom. And now he is out. And now he will surely text me back. But he doesn't. And then I check my WhatsApp. Not a single message.

And I feel my chest expand again but no air gets to my lungs. Because there is this void I always hope to fill with meaningless texts, talking over my pain and making jokes that make me look stupid, convincing myself that I'm okay in that by bubble of youthfulness. And it hurts any time I don't even get to do that.

Then I'm back where I started.

What is there to say about it really?

Broken homes and pregnant teens

Mothers working , father's drinking, the regular scenes

Young boys acting like wannabe thugs

Drug addicts ravaging the streets like wild dogs

We cursed at each other and fought for free water

Right by the same building they built for prayer

Dirt roads and rundown houses

Dark alleys, prostitutes in stolen blouses

There were nights I was woken by the screams

Of the terrified little kids

Fathered by my neighbour who beat his wife

Once, almost messed her up with a knife

Nobody ever came, everyone too busy with his own life

And always above it all,

The roar of airplanes flying low over our roofs,

ready to touch down in the airport not so close by

The screech of the metal train tracks, hovering above the streets like a hill,

Right where the sun set

The scream of the horn as the train approached fast

With more people on it than in it

not many people with a dime around here

I never figured how they even got up there

But then the occasional laughter

And friendly bargains over the counter

Even though everything sucks

New Year gets everyone smiling at the fireworks

Doors open at midnight over several blocks

Celebrations usually start down at the docks

And mothers pray for their daughters

sons protect their sisters

& neighbours still look out for each other

For whatever reason they do it, it doesn't matter

In a way, we have all always been quite in this together.

So,

What's there to say really?

Not much

Except maybe I would have picked a better hometown

Still, I wouldn't change how things really went down.

Once, when I was a freshman in high school, this guy that used to be a sophomore before he left, really athletic, really good-looking (I think) came to pick his younger sister up from our hostel at the end of term.

I think he said hi to me, not because he noticed me but because my school was extremely small and you kinda knew everyone. But I didn't even notice. I stood frozen and speechless, mouth dry, getting sunburned without protest. First time I ever gawked. I stared at him so much, I went home without my diary. My diary!!! All the cringey, stupidly young things I had in that thing, forgotten in such a viciously small, gossip-ridden place, well, I never let myself look at the male species like that again.

Definitely doesn't count as a courtship story but meh...it's all I've got.

For a few people on prose who have seen my post on creating this challenge, it's no surprise that I think estherflowers1 is a know it all. Even though she claims she is more of a know nothing, which is exactly what a know all would say. I always find something to learn from her posts and challenges. She makes me use the dictionary a lot, which is a good thing since English is practically not my first language.

Another person I think is a know all is danceinsilence but in more of a wise way than a smart way, if that makes any sense. I appreciate his comments the most. He is always so encouraging and insightful and seems to always know what to say. He does crack a lot of dad jokes though. So there's also that.

Lastly, TW might be the closest to human I've met on prose. She is as random and inconsistent as humanly possible. She seems to like the most random posts and enters the most unconventional challenges. And then she totally disappears for some time afterwards. Or maybe that's just Prose also being it's usual random and inconsistent self.

But she is such an open-minded person. I like that about her. There is also the fact that she has helped me get past a rough patch before with her kind and relatable words.

Ok, that's it.

Back in high school, the girls' house used to have these nights called confession nights. Pretty uncreative. We usually had them one of the nights after final exams, when we are all free and preparing to pack our bags and go home.

Well, they had them. I never went because I considered the confession nights stupid and sneakingly vicious. You see, what they did during these confession nights was tell one another what they thought about one another. The things they hated and the things they liked. From the gist I gathered, having not attended these nights myself, I think it was more of the former. One or more girls even came out crying on several occasions.

As I said, stupid but sneakingly vicious.

Although I don't think it was why I didn't attend. I just didn't like the thought of having a bunch of girls that were not all close to me telling me what they hated or liked about me. It's not like I knew all of them. It wasn't a huge boarding house but I didn't personally know everyone. And they sure as hell didn't all personally know me.

The point of this anecdote... Well I was just wondering. If I created a challenge based on the purpose of those confession nights, like we all just pick a bunch of people on prose, write what we like about them or what we dislike (In totally nice way) based on their posts, challenges, likes, reposts and comments, would that be a terrible, potentially war-causing thing to do?

Like if I said "estherflowers1 and everyone who likes, reposts or comments on her post and enters her challenges make me feel very stupid because her posts and challenges are so very smart and include very complex ideas and make her sound a little like a know it all. And I mostly never understand what she is talking about. And that is what I dislike about her and everyone I mentioned above. Would she mind?"

Just comment 'terrible idea if you think it's bad but don't want to say much on the matter.