run, my child, run
run through the desert -never give up?
feel on your tongue the taste of many oasis
tell them you are coming with a prolonged and shrill howl
they will open their wombs to your charm
until you find the greenest
or the thirstiest
This week my back hurts like hell. It is not because I haven’t been training hard -honestly I haven’t been training at all, or because of special acrobatics with Attention Whore or even because I got my period and I am bleeding like a stuck pig.
My pack is in pain because Monday I was stabbed hard, unexpectedly, but not with a knife, at least not a physical one, even it felt like it, or maybe not, maybe worst, because I have never beeb stabbed with a real knife so I know how that feels like for real…
The point is, this week I tasted what backstabbing tastes like, and is not a good taste, but bitter, painful and unfair. This week I figured out who is who around me, who has proved to be a good colleague and who I need to watch out for and who I can appreciate the support I got. This week I figured out also who I am, my worth, my contributions, what I am made of – and i concluded I am pretty proud of myself and of what I do. I got to get a sudden outlook of what is important in my professional life -not that I didn’t get it before, because I got it many times- but this time I was forced to get it from a different angle.
So despite the whole situation exploded relatively silently, I am still screaming in my head. Despite nobody can see bruises on my back, there is still smell of iodine around my desk.