We have these skeletons in our closets,
I am convinced they had a pulse once. The simple questions is: what
made us bury them so deep down? Shame, guilt, pain, a desire to
forget? Do you sleep easier at night knowing that there is a
decomposing body, just a few feet away from your bed? Does pushing it
away really make it go away? Because the stink will stay with you.
All the bleach and lye in the world
won't make the stains go away. A dirt that's on the inside rejects
our best attempts at cleansing. And as the body slowly decays we
parade around with a smile and laugh, who are we fooling? I have
bones in my room, and I know you do too, and you know I do, and we
know that the other knows. But the lie holds up as long as no-one
reaches out, and ruins the charade for the rest of us. Because once
someone admits that they've got a skeleton in their closet, it begs
the question: are they the only one? And we know without a doubt,
they are not.
We keep smiling, we keep searching for
that miracle cleaning-product, something that will at last make us
feel clean on the inside. But we're looking in the wrong places,
everyone has a skeleton in their closet. So it stands to reason, that
these people, who are like me, don't have the answer, they're still
looking too. So where is the answer? Perhaps, it's something beyond
this, maybe it is something not attached to the world of blood-stains
and skeletons.
We like thinking we've done it, we
pride ourselves on our cunning, on are prowess in the business of
secrets. Never mind that we're dead inside, as long as no-one smells the
decay, we've got out scot-free. We say to ourselves “No-one has
ever kept something so dark buried so deep for so long”, well give
us a medal! because we all do it. The most deadly type of disease,
the most viscous breed of cancer, is the one whose existence you
deny, even when it is staring you in the face.
Nothing we try can seem to get rid of
this skeleton in our closet, nothing can seem to make the guilt go
away, or clean up the mess. But do we really want it to go away? Like
pigs that enjoy the filth, or a dog that eats up his own vomit, I
think there is a part of us that likes the pain and misery, the
masochist-man in us all wouldn't give up the corpse for the world.
But please, let the saner side prevail, open yourself up, let the sun shine down inside you, and bring some life giving minerals to the
dead, dank, and dark closet. Because I am convinced that when you
reach out, others will see themselves in your plea, they'll recognize
the filth that have deep down too, and maybe, just maybe then we can
start seeing each other for what we really are, living breathing
human being deserving of respect, and above all maybe we will begin
to love one another as we love ourselves, not a bad commandment if
you ask me.
So, let's exhume that body,
let's not just bury the bones, let's burn them.
