Handicapped
Blind. Deaf. And dumb.
Was the first thing to conceptualize in my subconscious mind after childhood.
It remained. Got stronger. Continued up until assurance.
That who thinks inside a box. In a box. Says a box. Calls everything a box. Every thing, every household item. Every object. You name it.
Was once got name called a box. They got hit in the roof. It actually came true.
Blind, deaf and dumb echo every walk of life. Of shame but no fame.
Where do I fit in.
The man of the world, after traveling far and wide, thinks in that box.
I live in a box.
A separate cube. Vacuumed and disconnected from the actual box by choice. By my spatial mind. With time and space difference.
A little girl sits in the corner of that space. Arms hugging her knees. She wears a white frock, black shoes, has glossy hair.
Innocence on the face. She's mute, mouth slightly open. She looks across the door to observe the world spinning.
I look at her for a moment. A faint smile creases a corner of my mouth.
I turn around to leave, leaving her there. She's hopeless, that kid! Helpless. I step outside, closing the door behind me.
Blind deaf and dumb...
Yes, it comes again.
I face it. Will face it. I will face it until it departs. Or I will face it until I become the face myself. Until I become blind deaf and dumb.
Tired of hearing that on repeat?
I'm annoyed too.