I feel…I dunno…I feel lost; I’m confused, unsure of whether I made the right choices, picked the right friends, I’m at a crossroads with my mind racing even though I see a red light. In this game of blackjack, do I stick or twist, go for the double, split my hand or insure myself so I don’t lose everything if things turn sour. When that light is joined by amber before both colours fade away to leave the green light to step in, my mind will be allowed to race into whatever direction I choose but with the horizon too far away, I have to accept that I am blindly driving towards my own downfall or my coming of age.
The power lies in my hands, my destiny cupped in between the very hands that God gave me. To be honest, it’s frightening because all that power doesn’t come without grave consequences if abused. Power is a recipe for corruption, a recipe for injustice with the meaning of morality strained and manipulated to the maximum. Thanks to the society we live in, power normally lies with the few, the elites, the ones whose struggles don’t mesh in with the struggles of the majority and more importantly here, they are the puppet masters who strain and manipulate the moral fibres that keep us tethered together, either to strengthen us or to break us.
The hunger for power, the thirst for supremacy is a driving force in us that when it reaches its peak, it causes an overload, sparking a surge of activity that takes over us . The spark engineers the productivity that power needs to give it a purpose, an objective that leads to an end result but that productivity doesn’t always lead to positive intentions or a favourable end result. Power is devilishly toxic, too much of it leads to the injustice and corruption I alluded to earlier when it is not used properly. The elites of this world had to start from somewhere, maybe from the bottom scampering up to the lofty top or being lucky to be surrounded by wealth and influence, they grew up with a silver spoon in their mouths, barely having to lift a finger to reach the peak.
The overload is a gripping entity, something that gets inside you and makes you feel immortal to all those haters who doubted you. At the height of your power, you never want to let it go but this is where things can spiral out of control, falling from grace in Armstrong-esque fashion. The sweet taste of success tastes far better than the bitter taste of failure, in fact, your cravings for the sweet stuff is irresistible, an uncontrollable desire that takes over you. The fear of losing it drive even the level-headed amongst us insane and turn them into arrogant, narcissistic jeans who are slaves to power, doing whatever necessary, moral or not to stay at the top.
This is why I have these feelings of uncertainty because when I reach my peak, will I still be the same person I was when I was climbing up, working hard to make something of myself. I do not know how well I will cope with the responsibilities that are thrown at me or how well I cope when I am in a position position of power. I am also unsure about the overload, will I even get one and if I did, would I use my power for the right reasons or not. The choices I make will have rewards and consequences that not only affect me but people, some I might have never met too. I guess in this struggle for success, I have to choose a direction and stick with it and accept the rewards and consequences that come my way. In the end, it’s simple, we either pick to stick or twist but we’re not playing with cards because we choose exactly what is at stake from sticking or twisting, not just trying to win a game of Blackjack.