I look at the fan above us
Hearing the squeaking sound it makes
Trying not to picture the loose wires inside
Afraid that it would not hold and just fall
I look at his wardrobe's four legs
Two of them missing
Though leaned on the wall
How does it hold weight still standing?
I look at the carpet we're sitting on
Sponge-less arrayed with ugly holes
A bug ripped of it's wings or a giant ant?
How long has it made it its deathbed?
I look at his work shirt I bought him
New it should still be looking
But ball pen stains trickled his chest pocket
Looking like a sentimental shirt grandpas can't let go off
I look at the pants he's wearing
Thought he shortened one of his old long ones
Turned out to be trash being rid off
From a housemate he chased out
I look at his legs
Pains me to see them all scratched and skinny
The impact, motions and toughness they went through
Trying to erase the mental picture of him in a wheelchair
As I sit there and listen, to the "good" news, the bad news and the becoming's of him. I can't help to slightly giggle and laugh-an uncontrollable me. Smirking in defeat, not the kind where you feel superior, but the kind tinged with a semi-sigh, I think to myself for the first time, are all this for real? For that split second as subconsciousness entered my conscience, "Is this real? Am I dreaming? Is this virtual or reality? I feel like I'm watching a drama unfold before me". I think to myself, wondering whether these is all that I've been through for more than 2 decades of my life, not like I'm on the outside looking in, but more like being behind a production complete with video cameras and lights, the umbrella thingy's for proper lighting and the long head mics above. Virtual happenings turned believable reality. Catching myself from entering a subtle building of hallucination, I realize that this was my defense mechanism, an on-off button flipping at any right moment, adapting to the present environment. Not allowing fear to enter in, I brushed off the harmful thoughts that tried to protect me, thoughts that came in out of a certain "nowhere", disguising itself as a form of defense, tricking me into a battlefield where my side of the battle was many times lost, the Battlefield of the Mind.
Snapping myself out of the subconsciousness creeping into my conscious, I craft my swift prayer as thoughts, "God, I trust in You. I don't know when or how he'll ever change, but I put my trust in You. But even the word trust right now, has an ambiguous meaning for me. What does trust actually mean? I shall google it later. Do I put trust in You for his eternal destiny? Or do I trust in the trust that I'm putting in You? Whether that trust is actually trusting you in the first place or just a word I've come to learned through people and church? Do I even know what it means or how it feels to TRUST? ". And then fear accompanied by slight flickers of the words 'future' and 'work' comes in and I put a stop to it before it went too far. I need to trust God right now even if I don't truly understand, especially with the half-here-not-there kinda state I was in. I reasoned to myself knowing that I have gone passed the "Why me?" stage of my family circumstance, but now it has gone to "It is really me and what shall I do about it and how can I see God work with me through it?" Reality hits and every negative thought of it being a mind game dissipates.
This I've learned, that I need to take control of my conscious thinking and also my subconscious. To not allow virtual thinking grab hold of my reality turning it into an "acceptable" comfort-covered disgusting lie. I need to submit my thoughts to God and give Him the control of everything and anything that's happening in me and around me, to trust in Him even though earthly situations don't align. That even though I may not know fully how to, by faith I shall do, surrendering my thoughts, my plans, my future, my life into His hands, and especially the people that means the most to me. To understand that He is ALL-KNOWING, knowing what runs through my head whether it's the conscious, subconscious, virtual or reality.