The Phoenixes

The Phoenix is a feathered specie that is fabled to be one of its kind. It has a gorgeous plumage that never fades even over hundreds of years, it can survive longer than any nation in the Arabian dessert, and then burns itself to rise up from its ashes with renewed youth and live another series of centuries. Mythical but definitely splendid.

He was a Phoenix. Everyone envied him for he was beautiful. He always got all the sweet deals. Life was really easy on him, he just made it difficult. He would certainly be a tale. And his tale would be told and retold for years. And he, a Phoenix, would live on.

He was famed because he was a Phoenix, or because he came from a family of Phoenixes. A renowned doctor for a father, an elegant mother, a genius brother and a lovely sister. What his friends lacked, he surely had. Whoever said that "birds of the same feathers flock together" is definitely wrong.

I said the Unicorn is equally astounding. Legendary for its form, with magical properties on its twirled single horn, usually magnificently white and bright, flies graciously, a charger in the Arm. Remarkably fabled on legendary battles.

Everyone in the crowd wanted to be the Phoenix. I wanted to be the Unicorn. But bad news for me, they say, I am a Phoenix too.

Many times that I dared to emerge from my ashes. Many times that I was envied and my beautifully colored feathered precious back stabbed. Many times that I got what I wanted. Life was also easy on me, I just made it difficult. Many times that my tale has been told, and retold. And I would live on.

What happens when two phoenixes meet? A smorgasbord of spiteful and amused eyes. A feast of smoldering stories, of vivid circumstances. A very mighty combination of two birds of a rare specie, the envy of the ones who wanted to be with a phoenix, and the secret loathing of some who wanted to be the phoenix. A romance of two beautiful birds, gleeful with every flail of their wings, flying past over everyone in the Arabian desert.

Sure, two phoenixes finding each other in the throng is already a star on its own. Being happy together makes it a supernova. This tale would definitely live on for gazillion years. But whoever said that "birds of the same feathers flock together" is definitely wrong.

Two phoenixes soaring in the dessert sky would do the trick for them to just fly and be happy for hundreds of years. But in the city sky where there is nothing but the weather and pollution would really tire them flying above everyone else and they would want to be less self-important. And would rather not flock together.

Even before burning up to my ashes and rejuvenating, I have already realized that his friends were far better than him in terms of priority, romances, relationships, life, and love. Because they were not phoenixes who are colorful creations of The Gods so they strive for flying colors and Aces. They were not phoenixes who could live for ages so they knew the worth of time. Most importantly, they were not phoenixes who could rise up from their ashes to pass up from good friends, or family, and they knew the value of love. They were not phoenixes who always had the leisure and the second, and the next chances in their lifetimes.

How I envied these non-phoenix creatures so much. Maybe they would not have tales to their names to be told and retold but they would absolutely live on. And their loved ones would exalt their names. I wish he wasn't a phoenix. I wish I was never a phoenix myself. Because you know what happens when two phoenixes meet? They still burn up to their ashes, together.


The Phoenixes @ Peyups.com