Walking on our tip toes

They say that life’s a tough path to walk, a fear that we have instilled in us from our birth itself.

Even before we’re able to walk, we’re edified.
We’re edified to not be a certain way,
not to flout the existing rules,
not to be a wannabe.

Isn’t that the irony?
We’re being told to not follow the profusion of people, instructed to be unique at the patter of our tiny feet. It’s like imparting an artificial perception of sentiment to our tiny brains.

Aren’t we supposed to be unique to be able to walk on our little pavement of life but we’re told it’s rough, we’re told, we’re instructed, it’s a long path, why can’t we just break free of these damn agitations? Not following the masses, they said, isn’t that the same thing?

Rather than walking blindly on such a berm, under all such behests. It’s better to just walk on our tip toes, on a path that — even if is rough, deficient, drowned in the fears of those monsters — is familiar.

To break through, to be able to live our life the way we want, without walking with irons on our feet, the cuffs of dominion and the possession of their dreads.

Let’s just walk carefree but careful from ways of unfamiliarity.
Let’s be careful yet nonchalant,
Avoiding snags like cracks with mud on the road during rainfall,
Using the way we’ve always been using without being told,
Avoiding our fears and coming out,
Walking on our tip toes.

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