solemn. Vol. 1

by Michael King


6:46 am. I lay on my bed crooning along to Al Green and Otis Redding records. I think about my life and all that I have done…I realise all that I have done is all I haven’t done. (Or at least all I have yet to do).

Approximately this time last year I created an online diary (aka, a blog) and wrote my last piece – a year on I have yet to compose anything new. 12 months and over, still untouched, neglected and frankly decayed. I could come up with many excuses as to why I hadn’t or should I say still haven’t composed anything new, I could, but I won’t. I know the reason (not excuse) that I mercilessly abandoned it. I lost touch of myself and succumbed to desperation. I was perilously searching for something which was already in front of me. I embodied a facade, a life-crunching facade. I drove myself into the wrong lane along with habitual wrong doings -desperation gravely took hold of me.

However, I see this piece as a form of reflection. Reflecting on how and who I was exactly a year ago – looking at the person or character I am now, I can only look with a smile of joy and happiness. Alas, I had let desperation and personal guidance lead me into a bondage which I was so badly in need of breaking out. The point where I had to profoundly dig deep for a vision, a direction and a key to unlock me out of the soul-depreciating bondage I had moronically led myself into. This, the stage where I fell into a hollow pit and God picked me out. You could say this is a testimony. I say it’s a testimony of some kind.

I look out of the window, it’s bright with clear sky. No cloud to be found. It is 7:04 am. I have all but slept. Eye lids begging for sleep; hunger knocking on the door. I shall stop here…for now.


solemn. Vol. 1