To write.

I promised myself that i will write everyday about anything i could think of.  I promised myself that this once i will put all of my effort known to me,  that for this once i will persevere,  that i will not quit and i will not lose focus. I have tried a lot,  millions of times to think and realize what i want to do.  What this hands,  mind,  heart yearns and i can't count the times i never got an answer.  But now atleast one,  i do.  I want to write,  for all the tiny and inessential reasons. I can also state the obvious reasons,  but then again they are obvious. I asked if these reasons are the same with mine, somehow they are and they are not all at the same time. This one thing i know now, is the first thing i can work with,  finally. I decided i will work with it with all i got, and "all i got" may not be on a grand scale as compared to what "others got" but i will be no more than extremely proud to have given blood and time and efforts i could have never imagined,  because i never did before.  I am still figuring out alot these days and i bet much more in these coming months or years,  but along the way i will write. In between my juggles of priorities in every incomplete aspects, i will write.  With every shuffling emotions i would encounter i will write.  In the crowd of different faces and diverse ranges of beliefs,  i will write. And i will write incessantly until my hands, sore ––my mind, mute. I don't even worry of how.  I just came aboard with the one thing i can want the most entirely,  so i am giving myself permission to be flimsy and rubbish. As i have coveted to believe in the concept of Einstein's relativity theory,  i will still say i have a lot of time. I don't know what will come of it,  i never planned to be a professional in the field i have starved to be a part of.  I have never planned to do anything of it as of the moment but pleasure my soul with the gift i have yet to develop.  I have never planned things in my life actually.  I just do what my heart and my brain has altercated to want and to need.  This exact place where i stand will not hold me forever,  i eventually have to move on.  While i try to do the best moving forward i can and while i try to figure out all the corners and the turns i am yet to tangle myself with in this life i will write.  The first and one thing i have not confused myself with is what will remain constant in me in my entire walk.  I didn't even realize before i was holding onto it the same way i am holding off to it.  I maybe was scared more than i wanted it,  that is why i let go too soon and walked away.  But i do not forget of the times it crosses my mind and furnish my hands to draw words and to describe pictures. In those flutter of moments i felt the need to want to write,  so i do.  But it never last,  it would leave me as soon as it impinged on.  It left me bereft, i have to abandon hope before it ever flowed through my veins. And then i grew up a bit,  i know a thing or two now. I earned myself an intuitive amount of enough to know small and important things from all the days i spent in this lifetime. I know you never give up on the what you want,  especially if you never knew what it was until it hit you in the face and especially if it is quantifiable,  i should say.  Here i have a corner of my heart filled with one of the things i never pursued but had yearned long.  To keep writing is to keep smiling. So maybe that is why i keep smiling these days.

A bus to wherever.

Wherever destination i am required to be i seem to always take the slowest most comfortable form of transportation,  so far i consider the bus to do the perfect job. I always enjoy a long ride by the window in a well matressed seat and a good air conditioning, i pay the same fare as everybody else but i want the best seat in the house ––or in the bus.  Without any seatmate if it is not too much to ask.  I take my time on every journey,  i don't need a quick transportation if it involves butt bumping, crowd wrestling or race running.  I am oblivious to the fact i won't arrive in time for my appointment,  but i shrug it off.  Due to all the shrugging off i am a lousy,  unpunctual bloke to the eyes of my friends and acquaintances.  I am always the one to arrive last they have to allot minutes and more to wait for me.  I have the reason for coming last scripted up, Recited it many times and seems to still be of effect.   I see enough to know the importance of time for all the people running everywhere.  I see too much of it,  everyone is infact in a rush most of the time ––most of thier own time. They chase every ticking second one after another,  it becomes endless.  I can tell it matters to them,  so i can't tell i don't want to accept and live by the concept of time more so follow it.  No explanation can clear the forordained argument that's already nailed down in thier preconditioned minds. I don't blame them but surely they can blame me. A lost cause anyway.
But i want to see every people, trees,  cars,  buildings,  everything inanimate ––or not pass by me.  A usual scenery for an everyday ride to somewhere.  Just for a 10 maybe 15 minutes flashing of  usual mundane scenery of an everyday route is what i am after,  epecially in the morning. With the coldness from the early-morning hour still left, the sun about to rise in the pale blue sky vaguely painting the clouds with orange, a number of people just about starting up a crowd, and the almost emptiness of the streets that are usually overpopulated.  Nothing is remarkable in the scenery and the journey.  The slow pace and the lightness of the mood is what is pleasurable. There is stillness and awareness i am able to identify with every journey i take time with. Inhale,  hold, exhale.  I am in a journey,  i am moving with speed and i am not even touching the ground or provides the effort for placement acceleration.  I am just sitting back and feeling the space of movement.  Passenger perks. I find the pleasure in acceleration, in the jolt of forward movement i can watch objects pass by in a blur on my peripheral vision, it is the small world in all its ordinary scenes.  They are tiny indeed, but is invisibly connected to one another by chance. And as much as i have wondered i wonder all the more how these tiny scenes unworthy of enough attention fit altogether to create the bigger ones. They just do maybe. It slipped me maybe the whole commute might be just a distraction from the purpose of the appointment in the back of my mind, or it might have been the whole reason for the appointment.  For some given time i find that i look forward to a very long enduring ride even when there is no point to the destination. I always take my time nonetheless it is habitual.  I will never chase time in all it's glory.  This brain have been conditioned to quantify each courses to fit every ticking time of the day with activities. I am aware.  But the pleasures of slow pace is where i am putting my foot into.  I can see,  hear,  feel more. Such time wasted well spent.  Once i arrive at the destination is a different story all together, i am reminded of why the commutation.  I almost forget. But it was worth the nettled discourse after.

holes, heaven, hell.

No matter how hard you try to erase the feeling and return to the resounding normacy,  somehow the words drag you back and they thump with all thier life.  There is no way to get back what was never mine.  I will loosen my grip,  the sands will slip through my fingers.  No matter how many times you try, leaves nothing but holes inside.  If darkness  falls around i have my tiny fire here.  You will see the shadows in my face i hope you see the faith tiny underneath.  The pain will fade.  The steps i take to go into the light leaves foot steps so deep.  How can you feel emptier,  you don't have any. How can you feel alive if you have not lived.  Around is wide but here it is tiny,  so tiny.  There are directions pointing left and right how could have been lost?  Do you know where you are going?  I cannot take touch with me,  it will be gone.  The peices i try to build imperfects the suffice we all try to have. I am grateful for your warm hand around mine,  i am barely not breaking anymore.  I'm scared my breath will leave me prior the time i have realized what to die for.  You took so much i haven't had. Too much space to float i drown.  I am sorry for much of the time i had shut down,  i can't let you in.  All the drops fell on the wrong places.  Yet out of all the bruises and bumps, i'd rewind and won't alter.  I can't desire heaven and i don't,  as hell burns i would be burnt. 

Such pointless.

My eyes are open.  I can see now though i am not looking.  I can listen,  not hear.  I know now,  understand not comprehend.  I just what to be overwhelmed,  be loved and to love.  I am not brave but i am strong.  I need more than i want.  My enough is not universal but it suffice. I open the door i never knew was locked,  i stopped forcing open the one locked.  I feel life more than i live it.  Living has more than one way.  I will close my eyes as long as i desire and i will miss things.  Don't worry they are not for me.  The solemn speaks too much.  The warmth flows deep if you let it,  shut out the noise.  You are no longer hollow,  there are still holes but not so empty anymore.  Right this time i feel it,  i feel all around,  the revolving space.  The outside doesn't define the inside. Even words don't mean nothing.  The curves,  crevices and dents meant too much.  My heart can't block it but my hands can,  you can turn up the volume but i will still shut you out.  A second just passed,  and so is another day.  So busy jumping,  flying and soaring,  addicted to the pleasures of height,  i watched you. Ask me.  I've seen everything.  Feelings too fast,  words can't cover.  I remember how it's done all the more i remember how it feels.  It matters,  it is not to understand but it matters.  Smell of pleasure and confusion,  it goes best with the taste of disappointment and pride. I have never been at bliss being lost,  i was lost then i found the way back. Then it is unreal and ugly again.  Universal reality.