Dairy of a Girl Called Bance: Life is a Race ( Episode 4)

In the midst of all the kerfuffle of mankind, in a bit to fit into the fad of existence, filled with ostensible media and celebrity tittle tattle, we find an iridescence that over shadows the hoot of the ferocious pang of starvation, poverty and ill health, the gore of many unknown places we never see on screen, the helplessness of the dying child, the fate of the rape victim who stays victimised, the grief of the man who feels like a failure to his family. It is a bifurcated world really, where the rich get richer and the poor suffer in silence, a world where we celebrate the radiant yet fake lives of people whose standards of living are based on other people’s needs, a world where we can do dumb things like staying hungry just to make other people happy, a world where we put value on things that are wrong and we conveniently judge other people based on those values. 

Sadly it has become the real world, we're faced with unrealistic expectation, and the media keeps it alive, fuelling the fire; but then we keep on with our poker faces, every single one of us, whether we're found in a state of genuine glory or heartbreaking obscurity, we act like we got it all figured out and would go on striving to keep it that way, for that is who we are, humans, ever so insatiable and almost possibly flippant, and of course we know it will all end someday, although there may be times we wish it wouldn't, yet we strive to keep it together even if it is for a short while and as long as it goes down the fusty way - one day at a time, we are okay with it; we just want to make it even if we turn out like a calendula, one season blossoming another season all dried and used up. 

Is it worth it? Is any of the marathon even worth the while? Every single day meets us running around, always rushed, almost always late; we're either trying to beat a deadline, or trying to make a time limit; no wonder it is called the human race. 

Some of us wants to be famous, most of us wants to be rich, we all want to be remembered for something; we go extra miles, doing the unimaginable, starving our bodies of good meals and the rest that it deserves, depriving our eyes of profound sleep, toiling day and night, working extra hours if we have to; but most of the time, our plans don't often turn out as we wish, despite the events, the running around and the hustling that has become a lifestyle and has become so daily, and often times has left us looking even more befuddled and helpless than a praying mantis. Such that, all we are left to do is keep our hopes alive or give up. 

Life itself is often the most didactic platform in a person's life, and maybe, just maybe if we accept this fact warts and all, and we take a minute to pause, we would realize that life sometimes slows down just enough for all the pieces to fall into place; for all the commotion to settle, for fate to work its magic... maybe we then cross the finish line and cut the damn ribbon.