i woke up smelling a strong scent of farewell, that made me feel very unease with my own space. wondering if its just upset or feeling betrayed of whats going to happen with the following days.
so despite the gloomy and heavy weather, i stood up and look at the piles of boxes just waiting in front of me. never did i imagine that the last four years of my life could fit in just eight boxes. made me wonder how many will be added in a year span? what will be inside each? and how much more will it be a day before i die?
i guess, this is another version of what they call (literally) moving on.
but its just surprising how everything and everyone can be put inside boxes. how life can be placed in corners. and how my life, at least in this picture, is included inside it. the mere thought even made the day gloomier. or probably its just me again, always having hard time saying goodbye despite all the clutter.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
youth is like a drug, that can sometimes be addicting and rebellious.
but it is not anchored upon any numbers or experiences. it is popularly determined by one's notion of idealism; trying to break traditions but at the same time, driven by carelessness.
several nights back, i heard my window rustled as cool breeze trespassed my room. the presence was overwhelming. it felt as if it was full of ideas and very determined to playfully outwit fate. it presented itself normless and drove my hormones into the corners they seldom venture.
but as we blossomed passion in thin air, i secretly found out something it kept for the world not to discover--- a shadow full of fear that was driven by uncertainty.
suddenly the image took the form of a kid. a child, who is also scared of tripping and getting hurt. definitely pretentious that it kept me wondering, how many times it cried? how many times it felt so helpless? and the number of times it promised itself never to feel that same feeling again?
then at the break of a rare chirpless dawn, while i was trying to gather my consciousness, the image vanished with a promise of coming back. but i asked myself, how can someone promise returning if s/he is even scared of a hard fall? how can someone soar high if s/he is too afraid at looking below?
suddenly, from the corner of my room, i heard a soft and mellow cry. and as the image arose, i realized that pages of a book was actually unfolding in front of me. it seemed like, in deed, another shadow decided to leave from its peter pan.
it slowly approached me, wondering if it could trust a conversation. so i took the queue. and from there, i completely understood.
if there is one thing i've realized from all the experiences i had, that is risk may take all forms. but its in its uncertainty that leads life to its actual destination. it may never be a wonderland at the end but it would definitely be something worth living for. no one really said that being young assures us of not getting hurt. in fact, it is actually on that condition that leave us most vulnerable. hence, never be scared of falling because it is on that dive where the real life starts.
its never bad to be a peter pan. to soar life with all its heights. but one should later realized peter pan is only a product of our own delusions, that our youth will never betray us. because at the end, we are all like wendy, michael and john, who will be just old characters, watching as another sets of youth take their chance of realizing how is it to be young.