Shouldering the Blame

One reason why I like to wear short sleeved shirts with collars as opposed to t-shirts (round necks, Vs) is that it covers up the left side of my neck where it meets the shoulder.

On that particular spot, I have a mole, slight and roundish. It's quite inconspicuous, though clearly visible if you look closely. Nope, no hair sprouting from it (that would be gross) but it does tend to stick out whenever I scratch my neck there.

My mum used to look at the mole when I was younger and said that I will grow up to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders. She said it in Chinese, and I think that whatever it meant, it held deep resonance for how some events have turned out for me. The mole was an omen that I will shoulder responsibility beyond that which I can bear. It meant that I was to be weighed down, and never free.

Perhaps what she said stayed stuck in my head: I do feel as though I have the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Sometimes, I feel weary, like there are too many things that cause me worry. No matter how far I fly away from it all, my responsibility has a way of worming its way to me.

My shoulder aches from the weight I have to bear. My shoulders ache from the hurts I cause myself - I feel that I am just too nice a guy to let go and let be. I feel that perhaps, somehow, someway, someone will recognise the pain felt, or stinging pain of a careless word spoken.

Every word is loaded, and sensitivities get trampled upon. Perhaps letting go sounds easy to do, but what of it? One doesn't escape his destiny - a mark of one's indenture etched on the skin.