Envy
You donât will it to come, but it does.
You donât like to admit this, but it actually does come to you.
Like a thief in the night, Envy creeps into your skin in the slickest way possible.
Sometimes, it doesnât always come at night. Sometimes, itâs mid morning, when youâre lying down in your bed, thinking about the deadlines youâve still not met. Then as you open up social media, your screen blasts with the news of a celeb getting another Range Rover.
You donât will it to come. I know you donât will it to come, but it does. You eye your phone through a fiery lens that could burn through wood. Your head calculates itself at 3,000 miles per second with thoughts of:
âGod, am I beans?. See me here struggling for so long, yet what have I accomplished?. See other people busy buying Benz in this economy! Reaching heights in their careers? Getting followers when Iâm getting zero likes!â
These thoughts cloud your head without warning. The more they dance their way from your toes to your heart, the less human and more beast you become. The hatred grows on you like a second flame. Self-loathing kisses its way to your lipsâŠ
You donât will it to come, but it does.
Sometimes it even comes in a conversation with friends. Itâs all laughter and reminiscing and good gist about the latest wins; and you laugh and say âcheersââŠbut do you really laugh?
Or is that happy sound just nuggets of puffy air that actually conceal the truths hidden deep inside? Way deep inside your oesophagus where the laughter is yearning for a scream out loud?
Envy. So deep. So real. Jealousyâs baby sister.
Youâre probably wondering why I didnât call this piece âjealousyâ instead.
Maybe itâs because I want to delude myself into thinking itâs completely normal and Iâm not a total buffoonish loner.
Maybe itâs because I want you to realize that itâs okay to be envious, to allow it cloy your insides and make your body feel unfamiliar. But itâs not okay to dwell on it. Itâs not okay to bury your soul in it till you become the inadequate person you stare at in the mirror one day.
Maybe itâs because I want you to realize that we all walk different paths. Maybe Brother Thomasâs path is wired with rosy petals and sun shades to protect his skin from the darkness of the world. Maybe Miss Sandraâs path is wired with a big crowded stage where sheâs the soloist and the world is her oysterâŠ
But youâŠ
Maybe yours is different.
Maybe youâll never get the chance to be the loud siren. Maybe yours will be the silent thunder, echoing, clapping, resting on one quiet observerâs shoulders who would still choose you and recognize you even when you no longer recognize yourself. Maybe yours will be the gentle volcano that will take eons to erupt.
And if that pathâs yoursâŠ
Maybe the first way to getting there is accepting there, then working towards moving from there.


Amazing stuff