Kairosclerosis ✔ [poetry]

weight of

12

WEIGHT OF

⸻

the weight of living

isn't the highest point in your life

or the lowest rock bottom you hit.

neither are the dramatic headlines

of dead strangers you don't even know about,

nor the fancy gifts you bought

for yourself online.

isn't regretting the past or aimless musings about the future,

but rather: the abundant insignificant moments

of mediocrity

in the present.

you can find in anyone, anywhere, anytime,

with little to no variations.

the weight of living

is the eventual acceptance:

that you are neither the protagonist

nor the antagonist

of your own life,

that the status quo

the countercultures

are one

and the same,

that rebellious streak you hide in

to fit in still sets you apart.

that unquestioning compliance to higher beings you call

government and norms

isn't different from the feverish, religious worship of

gods and devils.

it smells like the familiar gasoline exhaust

settling heavily on the crowded city space,

and carries thick, viscous sweat and bodily odour

of the evening packed bus.

it is the shameless unconscious humming to your favourite song

as you bike along the street.

it is the tired sigh as you count down the minutes

until work is done

so you can spend more torturous hours

waiting in traffic.

it is the amusement of sitting in a wagering room

watching your first horse race,

smiling and chattering to elders with khaki pants and baseball caps.

it is the sound of a debit machine printing out the bill after you paid for your meal.

it collects in the crevices between the lunch period

where you sit alone in a dingy corner of your workplace;

and pools around your ankles while you're in line for eggs and milk.

it plays on your room's dusty windowsill, weaving

between thin crawling, yellowing branches of the golden pothos,

and lingers by the long to-do list

taped up by your desk-side you have been putting off.

it grows a little with each family meal you eat together,

with every meaningless smile you flash to blurry, 

faceless people you don't want to talk to.

sometimes,

the weight of living feels like midday sunlight searing onto your hair,

or the burst of energy from the morning caffeine kicking in.

other times,

it is the emptiness rattling about in your skull

while your body repeats a mindless motion over and over again,

or the dragging footsteps of somebody trudging home from work way past midnight.

the weight of living was born with you

by you.

for you.

it curls up snugly on your chest

when you fall asleep at night,

when you wake up in the morning.

it is your friend, your foe,

it is you, whether you like it or not.

and you carry the weight of living on your shoulders every day,

as everybody does.