Living like a kite
You Look So Tired of Living Like a Kite.
The question of whether they wish to soar remains unasked, for they are but objects, their will? Simply non-existent, their purpose imposed. With a deliberate hand, we lift them into the sky, releasing them from their tether, setting the noose free, and they rise bound by the invisible thread of our desire.
They must, in their ascent, display their colors in full, even though they may not yearn for such exposure. It is a metaphor for human existence: the expectation to perform, to present ourselves in vibrant hues, when inside we may long for silence or obscurity. This is the weight of conformity, the unspoken demand to wear a mask of joy when one’s heart feels heavy.
But such is the condition of life, an unceasing flight, where the wind of societal expectation propels us upward, and the horizon promises no rest. Can one afford the luxury of melancholy? To pause and fall would be to surrender, to break the delicate thread that binds us to the world’s gaze. There is no time to be grounded in sadness when the only way forward is to continue soaring…whether we wish to or not. So we fly, high, higher than ever, driven by forces beyond our understanding, until the very act of flying becomes the essence of our existence.
I really feel this. Life asks us to keep moving, showing up, and shining even when we’re exhausted inside. That quiet tiredness, the sense of being pushed by expectations instead of choice is very real. Sometimes the only thing you can do is take care of yourself, softly and on purpose, even while you’re still “flying.” And honestly, that’s enough. @Brakutz