Life, spelled out right...
Wow it's been a long while I haven't written anything in here, yet... I don't know, maybe pressure, life itself gives me too much to handle sometimes, and that's how it has been all this time... So much life, so little time.
Here's what has been twirling around my head for days, now I find some little time to write about it:
Ever had a good book in hand, that you read from page one, til the end, yet you felt so emotionally involved in the whole plot, characters, scenes, all so beautiful and so surreal enough that when you reach the last page... You just don't seem to want to close the lid at all? Ever thought that closing the lid meant having a wild resume in your head about it all, breathe the whole experience through, but the fact is, the book has ended, and it's time to go on?
To me, life is a whole, big, half written, half blank book, curiously plotted through different emotions, thoughts, feelings, actions... Chapters. Some of us have a hard lid, some have soft covers, some are just magazines, some are encyclopedias, some are just notebooks filled with gracious poems, others with sad and dramatic lyrics, some are "connect-the-dots", others are "fill in the blanks", even there are those who have their insides outlined, waiting for another to come and color them up in bright, gloomy colors (and I can't imagine anything better than a child coloring it up with crayolas, hehehe).
Either way, we are all filled up with some info, something that gives out the great quality of being humans, the experience of living throughout different steps in your life: from that special It's-not-Santa-but-it's-my-uncle-dressed-up-as-one scene as your uncle turns up at the door, to that puppy running towards you as a special God sent gift, to all those downhill races you made with your best friend riding a BigWheel, a great soccer game turned to victory, or that first kiss giving you butterflies like you never had before; the struggle of surviving as a cool but melodramatic teenager, the first "I am free!" day of your life as you enter college, the first spawn of a true love turned to disaster, spending nights out with your friends, waving goodbye to your true love as he/she walks into the airport gate, breaking hearts crying to each other for one last time, looking at a relative today not knowing that tomorrow it's all gone... It's all so much filled in, though through different perspectives, different views and opinions.
I don't really understand why some people just have their books all torn up and ripped apart, with missing pages, that clearly state the purpose of who they are RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. Me, I keep my pages, I look at them thoroughly, just to be reminded of what's like to be me right now.
Anyways, our book, and those chapters, not indexed except by our own thoughts, is what makes us true humans.
Three months ago, I had a closing chapter in my life, and I write about it so I can finally close the lid on it. It was hard on me, I accept it. I thought I had true love, yet I fell on the facts that true love is only meant for the heart to decide, not the head. And for a while, I thought it was my heart speaking, but it was my stubborn ego not letting go. Perhaps I damaged her, perhaps she did me as well, who knows, only but experience does know. For all the time worth, it was beautiful and I enjoyed every minute, even though there were some minutes that went by so fast like milliseconds, and some as eternal as centuries (thanks Einstein!), but it had to come to a last page, one that I wrote and closed with a happy ending (or at least it was for me).
For a while I went on, not wanting to close that lid, for the fear of... Well, nostalgia. What if I was closing the lid on a book that would have ended "To be continued...", perhaps as a saga, a trilogy, a complete boxset, I don't know. Maybe that last page had been written, just needed some "spell check" by Experience Inc. , and some "proofing" by Closure Assoc., enough to just take a pen and DOT... The end.
Then, another closing chapter, yet this one had just been one whole dramatic sequence, needing to end either way (by fate itself). I closed it, hard to do so, and I know some took more time to close it as well (Rest in peace, A.E.B.K.).
But, life does give you new fresh pages to write on... To keep on writing, there's no ending until death itself takes away the magic ink on your witty pen.
That's where not many of us know exactly what to write (as it happened to me with this blog, to be precise). Eventually it's about letting go of what's been accumulating inside, and exploit it the best way you can.
I am now closing up some books, which I just read the last lines... Beautiful memories, wild adventures, awesome moments, compelling drama scenes, lots of actors, lots of key sequences, and best of it all, wonderful teachings felt deep within. The are going into those shelves in my wonderful library, which you can all just visit at anytime you'd like, I will share with you all every single fairy tale, drama novel, sci-fi comic, poetry mags, comedy notes, anything that my library has, if you care to step up and ask me about it.
My point to this all is, we are all books, we are all gracious figures of good literature, each of us with longer life chapters, some of us who don't even know how to end a story, while others just know how to speed-write incoherently to the end. We all have a story, a memory, a tale, an experience, something that takes us back to those moments (amazing that time doesn't really exist in your head but only in real life, how's that for quantum physics huh?), and give us enough to learn and to understand that the purpose we are here right now is all that was left behind back THERE *pointing behind you*, and the reason to be here is to go THERE *pointing ahead of you*.
You just gotta know where the story ends... Or where does it begin... Again?
Wish you all good fortune on writing best selling hits out of each other's lives. And always remember, be true to your own writings; after all that's what makes you a better man than the person next to you; honesty and loyalty to your heart, mind and spirit, always looking to achieve the best in life.
Here's what has been twirling around my head for days, now I find some little time to write about it:
Ever had a good book in hand, that you read from page one, til the end, yet you felt so emotionally involved in the whole plot, characters, scenes, all so beautiful and so surreal enough that when you reach the last page... You just don't seem to want to close the lid at all? Ever thought that closing the lid meant having a wild resume in your head about it all, breathe the whole experience through, but the fact is, the book has ended, and it's time to go on?
To me, life is a whole, big, half written, half blank book, curiously plotted through different emotions, thoughts, feelings, actions... Chapters. Some of us have a hard lid, some have soft covers, some are just magazines, some are encyclopedias, some are just notebooks filled with gracious poems, others with sad and dramatic lyrics, some are "connect-the-dots", others are "fill in the blanks", even there are those who have their insides outlined, waiting for another to come and color them up in bright, gloomy colors (and I can't imagine anything better than a child coloring it up with crayolas, hehehe).
Either way, we are all filled up with some info, something that gives out the great quality of being humans, the experience of living throughout different steps in your life: from that special It's-not-Santa-but-it's-my-uncle-dressed-up-as-one scene as your uncle turns up at the door, to that puppy running towards you as a special God sent gift, to all those downhill races you made with your best friend riding a BigWheel, a great soccer game turned to victory, or that first kiss giving you butterflies like you never had before; the struggle of surviving as a cool but melodramatic teenager, the first "I am free!" day of your life as you enter college, the first spawn of a true love turned to disaster, spending nights out with your friends, waving goodbye to your true love as he/she walks into the airport gate, breaking hearts crying to each other for one last time, looking at a relative today not knowing that tomorrow it's all gone... It's all so much filled in, though through different perspectives, different views and opinions.
I don't really understand why some people just have their books all torn up and ripped apart, with missing pages, that clearly state the purpose of who they are RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. Me, I keep my pages, I look at them thoroughly, just to be reminded of what's like to be me right now.
Anyways, our book, and those chapters, not indexed except by our own thoughts, is what makes us true humans.
Three months ago, I had a closing chapter in my life, and I write about it so I can finally close the lid on it. It was hard on me, I accept it. I thought I had true love, yet I fell on the facts that true love is only meant for the heart to decide, not the head. And for a while, I thought it was my heart speaking, but it was my stubborn ego not letting go. Perhaps I damaged her, perhaps she did me as well, who knows, only but experience does know. For all the time worth, it was beautiful and I enjoyed every minute, even though there were some minutes that went by so fast like milliseconds, and some as eternal as centuries (thanks Einstein!), but it had to come to a last page, one that I wrote and closed with a happy ending (or at least it was for me).
For a while I went on, not wanting to close that lid, for the fear of... Well, nostalgia. What if I was closing the lid on a book that would have ended "To be continued...", perhaps as a saga, a trilogy, a complete boxset, I don't know. Maybe that last page had been written, just needed some "spell check" by Experience Inc. , and some "proofing" by Closure Assoc., enough to just take a pen and DOT... The end.
Then, another closing chapter, yet this one had just been one whole dramatic sequence, needing to end either way (by fate itself). I closed it, hard to do so, and I know some took more time to close it as well (Rest in peace, A.E.B.K.).
But, life does give you new fresh pages to write on... To keep on writing, there's no ending until death itself takes away the magic ink on your witty pen.
That's where not many of us know exactly what to write (as it happened to me with this blog, to be precise). Eventually it's about letting go of what's been accumulating inside, and exploit it the best way you can.
I am now closing up some books, which I just read the last lines... Beautiful memories, wild adventures, awesome moments, compelling drama scenes, lots of actors, lots of key sequences, and best of it all, wonderful teachings felt deep within. The are going into those shelves in my wonderful library, which you can all just visit at anytime you'd like, I will share with you all every single fairy tale, drama novel, sci-fi comic, poetry mags, comedy notes, anything that my library has, if you care to step up and ask me about it.
My point to this all is, we are all books, we are all gracious figures of good literature, each of us with longer life chapters, some of us who don't even know how to end a story, while others just know how to speed-write incoherently to the end. We all have a story, a memory, a tale, an experience, something that takes us back to those moments (amazing that time doesn't really exist in your head but only in real life, how's that for quantum physics huh?), and give us enough to learn and to understand that the purpose we are here right now is all that was left behind back THERE *pointing behind you*, and the reason to be here is to go THERE *pointing ahead of you*.
You just gotta know where the story ends... Or where does it begin... Again?
Wish you all good fortune on writing best selling hits out of each other's lives. And always remember, be true to your own writings; after all that's what makes you a better man than the person next to you; honesty and loyalty to your heart, mind and spirit, always looking to achieve the best in life.
"Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived it..."
Patrick Stewart in "Star Trek"
