I am a Serpent
Created: August 16, 2015
I am a serpent.
I change skins.
Don’t ask me who I am. Ask me what I am.
And I’ll answer you with sharp, focused, linear, yellow eyes: “I am a serpent. I change skins.”
THE MULTI-PASSIONATE CHILD (c. 1992 – 2004)
I miss this skin. It’s decades ago since I last wore it. I’ve shred it with so much pain and I miss it a lot.
I would run again, if given the chance, under the rain and above the muddled earth with cousins and childhood chums.
I would draw figures again, if given the chance, behind my notebooks, while the teacher lectures.
I would create a world of beasts, and monsters, and men, where I retreat away from the dark, gray, silent world around me.
THE HIGHSCHOOL OVERACHIEVER (2004 – 2008)
I miss this skin. Not because I like it. But because I know, I’ll never get to experience it again.
I can’t wear this skin anymore, not because I can’t do it again, but because I no longer believe in fame, in social approval, and the conventional image of success.
But I miss this skin because it taught me a lot about life and how to go about it.
The competition.
The fear of being in front.
The experience of getting out of my comfort zone.
The opportunity to lead other people and the chance to make a difference.
I would like to come back again and wear this skin to redo the things I’ve done and to do things I didn’t do.
THE YOUNG PASTOR (2008 – 2011)
I miss this skin because I had a strong sense of purpose when I wore it.
I knew where I was going. I knew what I wanted to do. I didn’t feel lost like I feel today. I didn’t need to find clarity because the Bible gave that to me.
I didn’t have freedom but I had direction and that made life easier.
I miss this skin even if I abhor it.
Because it was the only skin I wore which made me feel really warm. I was part of a community of passionate people who were willing to sacrifice everything, even their lives, for the cause.
Never again will I be able to wear this skin.
And that’s both a shame and a relief.
THE MAD MAN (2011 – c. 2012)
I want to forget this skin. I can’t even write about it anymore.
It shattered the life I had before it and it did’t leave any residue behind.
It turned my life upside down – changed not just my brain chemicals but my entire disposition with life.
Life was meaningless. We are going nowhere. We’re only waiting for death and what comes after it.
I was mad, angry, unthankful, vulgar.
I blamed the world. I hated everyone. Even myself.
It was all dark.
All dark.
THE ACTIVIST (c. 2012 – c. 2013)
I wore this skin in an attempt to make things right with what happened in 2011.
I lost the strong sense of purpose and direction that I had when I was being groomed a young pastor.
After a year of hibernation and pain, I decided to get back into the world in 2012 and tried to see if I can do anything else than to lie down on my bed, watching movies, and waiting for the world to end.
So I became an activist and fought hard, not just for the people, but also for the party. That meant I have to love and hate at the same time. Love the people we’re trying to help and hate the other party who was trying to help the same group of people.
I felt like a hypocrite. I felt divided, segregated, and hated by people I didn’t even know.
It was a skin I found easy to remove after a year or so.
THE GENTLE NONCONFORMIST (c. 2013-2015)
What was left in me after all that happened in this short life that I once desired to end is the strong thirst to do something that matters.
Today, I wear a skin far more different than all the skins I wore before. And yet, it is a skin made from its predecessors and a skin that I won’t be able to wear without wearing all the others first.
I wear the skin of minimalism.
I wear the skin of living on the present moment.
I wear the skin of doing what I am passionate about and throwing any alternative away.
I wear the skin of an unconventional way of living that has left every person in my life confused, disturbed, and critical on my path.
I am, today an exile of the conventional working world, a creative entrepreneur and writer behind a blog and a computer, author of two small books about life and making a living, friend, leader, dreamer, and follower.
But behind all those skins is just me, the serpent, crawling with no feet, hiding under the earth, undisturbed, encumbered, unperturbed. Authentic. Ever-growing.
I am a serpent.
I change skins.