Adventures of a Forced Migrant Contact Me
Every day is an exercise in walking on shattered glass. Today was much worse.
My feet cannot carry my growing weight. That may or may not be a metaphor.
My heels are constantly throbbing. Sometimes the pain is more intense than other times.
Plantar fasciitis renders me immobile.
It strikes at the very core of my existence.
I am restless. I always have to keep moving forward. If I am on a bus or train and it stops moving, I try to get out. If there is a traffic jam, I try to find another way forward instead of sitting around and waiting for it to clear up. I’ll jump off a bridge and swim if I need to get to where I need to go. And I’d rather break down a wall in my way than negotiate with it.
I don’t know how to sit still and wait.
Stillness scares me; Limbo is petrifying.
The mind wanders when the body cannot move, wandering into a deep dark black hole,
A phantom zone.
I feel the most pain when I am still.
Movement is my savior. To move is to agitate,
to rouse, to stir, to trigger, to migrate.
I lost the ability to run last year.
I can’t walk right now,
so I will just crawl around.
I will just keep pressing forward.