The black box

I am looking out of my window, watching metallic animals charging through the concrete jungle, tamed like wild animals in a circus by the self-proclaimed kings of this jungle, like all other living things in this world they want to control and own them. They are self-proclaimed as their egos are so big; the shelters they build for rest are grand and fill with objects that serve no purpose other than they feel the necessity to own them. One such object is a black box that sits in a room meant for living, which is ironic as the black box means they do not live but worship it like a false god giving it praise each day rather than see what is outside the concrete jungle they’ve created and the walls that block the daylight from shining.

This false god they believe what it tells them, when in reality it is all carefully orchestrated to appeal to their egos and desires as much as their love and empathy, making sure they invest their emotions again and again in this false god as believe informs educates and entertains them. They react not with their fellow kings with conversation but reach for smaller boxes to complain and praise, under a false belief they can change the future despite the fact the script is already written, all was planned years before, and they are merely players in a movie themselves. Some remove the false god, knocking down the walls of concrete to rediscover the multi-coloured and multi-sensory it hides; like Neo in the move “The Matrix” it feels like they have taken the red pill and awoken from deep sleep. Where as many continue unknowingly or unwanting to acknowledge what they see take the blue pill as rather have the comfort the false god brings.

I have had enough concrete jungle, I prefer to sit among the autumn leaves listening to their stories and songs than listen to the autotuned songs and false stories that the kings of the concrete jungle tell. This world is incredible, the trees of different shades with birds singing 101 songs as the wind tickles their branches and rivers do not run but massage the wounds of the mountains and forests. Take a hammer to break down the wall of concrete or smash the glass of the window in the room of living to begin to live. Pick up the telephone or write a letter, create something new, be it a pot of lentil soup or cakes with butterflies on them to a painting of the view from the broken glass to a song celebrating your love for another.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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You are not a failure

Negative self thoughts, we all have them. I want you reading this to know that you are a loved for who you are, a beautiful person who tries their best, and you deserve better. Do not let anyone else make you feel you are worth less than a grain of sand; but a wise person knows that a grain of sand is loved and this why beaches are covered in so many grains.

Do not apologise for not being good enough, as long as you give something all you can, that is enough. You have a value beyond money. Do not let others take advantage of or abuse you, and equally do not abuse yourself! Let your spirit soar like an eagle flying over mountains, know you are doing just fine. You are not a failure and never will be.

We all need a little reminder at times that we are someone that matters. Treat yourself to something that makes you smile, be it phoning up a friend you have no spoken to in ages to share news and giggles, going for a walk in a local park or having a long hot soak in the bath, it does not need to cost money. Remember, it’s the little things that matter most in life.

Keep this message somewhere in your heart and soul to remember when those negative thoughts try become a song, as they will get you singing along to their minor chords if you listen to them. Think of all the good things that you have done and what you have achieved against the odds, let those positive thoughts fill your heart like a gas station pump fills a car.

© Fi S. J. Brown