-Ernest Hemingway
Falling Slowly
April 27, 2009I thought I’ve passed through it. I thought it had already ended. Yet, this sadness is still there…just hiding in the pit of my soul.
I can’t think of anything to make me feel cheerless. I have everything I wished for, at least those I’ve wished when I was still a kid. Yet those dreams grow and grow until it could lead me to nowhere.
Everything’s a repetition. Everything’s seems the same. I feel I like I’m going nowhere, but just trailing on the same circle.
Sometimes, I take pleasure on the miseries of other people’s lives, because somehow, this makes me think I’m happy with my life. Yet, it’s just a veil to my own frustrations.
I feel happy when I’m with my friends. I share experiences with them and I laugh loudly at their jokes. I take time to learn something new and I often read books, just so as to make me look a bit smarter. I give my focus to my work and give my dedication to my career. I go home every weekend to spend time with my family and my pets.
But still, at the end of the day… when everything seems to stop, and when there’s nothing left to do, sadness comes to visit me.
I keep on telling that life is so lovely. I keep on repeating that I’m happy.
Everyone may have a bit of sadness on his life, though he may not want to admit this to himself.
People are afraid to go on a different road, where he may be criticized.
We have the tendency to go the same with everyone else. Because we are scared that others won’t like us.
Then, maybe…perhaps I should be asking myself questions that others won’t dare to ask, things that others won’t dare to do.
I’ll leave them all here, for this moment…
until I find the courage…
Listen, Observe…
April 17, 2009 I was seating on the bench, waiting for the train to arrive. A number of faces were blurry through my myopic eyesight, yet, their expresions were clear…expressions of mixed emotions - excitement, joy, anger, sluggishness, and those blank faces that I couldn’t quite figure out. There was this middle-aged lady in yellow shirt and jeans, she was alone, texting. She kept on smiling, unconsciously and involuntarily pulling up a genuine smile; so genuine that I felt her happiness and excitement from a distance. I imagined her without a single negative feeling inside her, except, that sincere joy. Perhaps her husband was texting her, saying words that were melting her heart. She didn’t care what others may think of her smiling alone - doesn’t matter, as to what her expressions showed. Because she valued that precious moment, moment that would count as one of the happiests regardless of where you are. That’s how life gives out these things to us, the precious moments…unexpectedly.
Calm Sea
April 3, 2009Circles.
Repetition.
Cycle.
Lazy Friday.
Wandering thoughts.
Forget it…
Music.
Yawn.
B*tch.
Rebel.
Forget it.
March on.
Heads up…
