Friday, April 20, 2007
Dream on! (But don't imagine they'll all come true.)
She squats on her carpet-covered floor, immovable. The stuccato of rain raging against her window panes unmanaged to divert her attention to the deep aloofness she's absorbing. Even now, she remember all the events that led to her own enlightenment, the enigma that have kept her confuse for years has, at some point reveal itself like the apertures in the Opera. As bothersome may it seem for her, she is still amused of her self discovery. She present a tinge of smile through the dense, cold, air and look as if dumbfounded, beyond nothing in particular; perhaps having a day dream that stars a positive future filled with possibilities, or a still memory that brings upon a jolt of delight.
How did she conclude with this? She does not know. Thoughts are racing through her but she doesn't apprehend why she is utmost certain of her recent plans. If she is absolutely certain of something, it is that, finally, she found an entity to live for and be positive about--Journalism, writing.
Truly, it is too early for her to have a mid-life crisis...or any kind of crisis at this point in her life. One can assume that her outlook before was brought by teenage frustrations from many events she have failed to attain or even touch up with. Often on a race against a mechanical clock, this wholesome being can almost pretends to be in her 40s and running out of time. Until now. She realizes that time fails to keep up with the lives of so many people already beyond years not the other way around; it is not time that's fast forwarding but the people who are scared to get left behind. Such lives needs to Carpe diem! than ignoring the moment all-together. And tis wonderful for her to finally understand the philosophy that many might have had provided her before: the art of slowing down to live for today.
Will Billy Joel's song, Vienna, apply now?
This is not a step advancing ahead to my goals but a forward to make it work for me. I am irritated of how my last blog had once again, turned into what i'm always scared about: a selfish, unprovoking, personal journal that nobody wants to read...or be interested into. It was my life i was talking about, mind you, and while i do think of my life highly and not a big drama of boringness, creating this are one of the changes i wanted to do. I want to redirect my writing into a more serious one even if it means losing my few readers completely. After all, it is neither the million audiences nor the fame; it is about my willingness to better myself in writing that will someday can get me farther than I imagine.
Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart
Tell me why are you are still so afraid?
Support the novice, eh?
Labels: hopeful, the beginnings
My mind's unweaving/ 7:11 PM
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She squats on her carpet-covered floor, immovable. The stuccato of rain raging against her window panes unmanaged to divert her attention to the deep aloofness she's absorbing. Even now, she remember all the events that led to her own enlightenment, the enigma that have kept her confuse for years has, at some point reveal itself like the apertures in the Opera. As bothersome may it seem for her, she is still amused of her self discovery. She present a tinge of smile through the dense, cold, air and look as if dumbfounded, beyond nothing in particular; perhaps having a day dream that stars a positive future filled with possibilities, or a still memory that brings upon a jolt of delight.