Time

July 28, 2016: Unstoppable

Out of your control but in full control, the unstoppable passage of time is predictable. Tick tock at a constant, uniform sequence. Indefinite and infinite, Unstoppable. Whether it proceeds forward, backwards or to the side, time exists. If it were to stop, then there would be no such thing as time. I thought this as true, until we kissed.

 

An Opportunity

July 27, 2016: Crisis

Alert! Alert! Oh boy. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen. Here I am, finally face to face with…her. The sounds of crowds and traffic suddenly vanished. The traffic lights, cafe’s and corner stores blurred into a nondescript haze. She was the only thing I could see, and she was looking right back at me. She was waiting for me to say something, anything. Whatever I said, she would hear. Yet I was speechless. Her eyes robbed my voice. The problem, funny enough, was that she caught me as I was desperately trying to satiate my unforgiving appetite. I was so hungry that my one-track mind could hardly process anything but my primitive mission for food. The encounter with her sent my brain into a frenzy that I could not handle. Why now? Food or the girl? A crisis situation indeed. Suddenly, my survival instinct kicked in. Why not have both? I asked her to join me, she smiled. We ate together. A crisis always presents an opportunity.

 

The Morning

July 26, 2016: Elusive

Night-me has the full hand over morning-me. Night-me can make or break morning-me, while morning-me wants nothing more than to capture the elusive morning. If night-me decides to stay up for another hour – just for the love of the night – morning-me wakes up reluctantly and the morning eludes him. If night-me thinks ahead and sacrifices his beloved accomplish-nothing time, morning-me can live the morning! Yet leaving the comfort of that soft pillow under those warm sheets in a quite morning can be daunting. Succumbing to that lazy comfort is too easy – a quality all too familiar with night-me – and the elusive morning can tick-tock away. Morning-me is determined to capture the elusive morning, however, and musters the strength to get out of bed. He yawns, stretches long and tall, opens the window and feels the cool morning mist wrap around his warm morning-face. Morning-me takes a deep breath and exhales in exaltation: the elusive morning is alive.

 

In Preservation

July 25, 2016: Sanctuary

They ran with it. Unaware of the ability it required or of the blessing it gave. Laughing in awkward unison, they forced their way along a shared objective. All along, it maintained its balance. As they surrounded it with a disguised dependency, it shut its mind to them, all seven billion of them, in preservation of its sanctuary.

 

Forgive

July 23, 2016: Punishment

I did not attend the funeral. A mix of apathy and resentment competed for the reason behind my absence, at least in my own mind. Time passed and my heart grew in parallel to the experiences I lived. I forgot so that I can forgive, but I got it all wrong. As I sat on my rocking chair, by now creaking with every swing, I watched my son chase a butterfly. My old heart began to swell. I saw myself chasing those butterflies, and imagined myself looking up at him in the rocking chair, unaware that I would not attend his funeral. I hadn’t forgotten a thing, and my heart swelled further. I gasped for air as the sight around me blurred thicker and thicker. I wish I saw him catch that butterfly. My punishment for not learning to forgive.

 

I Care

July 21, 2016: Carefree

A carefree life seems to be the end we ought to pursue. “Not a care in the world” is written in a smooth italic font underneath a picture of a healthy young man lying underneath a giant oak tree. Yet, I care. I care about injustice in the world. I care about humanity. I care about truth. I care about the opportunity for all to live a carefree life. Only then can I not have a care in the world.

 

On the Balcony

July 20, 2016: Depth

The man stood tall at the edge of the balcony. The stars flickered above him and the moon shone on the dense forest which he gazed into from above. His posture upright, his suit well pressed and fitted, his beard finely groomed and his thick dark hair well combed. He was alone on the balcony. Warm yellow lights escaped the windows behind him, along with faint sounds of gracious merriment. His face was as relaxed as serenity itself. He then heard a light footstep as she finally stepped onto the balcony in her long red dress. His body still facing the forest, he turned his head to meet her eyes. He then turned his broad shoulders toward her and carried himself forward with purpose. He set his hand on the side of her long, bare neck and gazed into her eyes, reaching the depth of his dreams.