Watch the magnetic pendulums sway from side to side. We are running out of time, are we? Witness it count down to the end of each day. It’s so unreal how the clock ticks life away. Every movement, every blink, every smile, every tear, every unspoken words we wanted to declare, every dreams that we are waiting and willing to share. Just take a chance, leap with no fear. Holding back won't get you anywhere. Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok, we continue to clock watch. Wasting every second, every minute, every hour; Just say it, go ahead and do, don't hold back. You'll end up having something to lose or something to gain; like minutes not going to waste. Tik-Tok, Tik-Tok, no more of this clock watching. Go ahead, just live in this moment just this time, get ready to let your life unwind.
“What if we did not delineate our daily life by what we attained?”
This interrogative expression set me forth on a broader path of inquiringness along with introspection. What if our daily lives were not signified by how much we attained or the notches of achievement we proudly trace off before ending the night? What if we stopped concentrating so much on marking off each item on the must-do list? What if we overhaul our own individual meanings for the term “accomplishment”? How do we, distinctly and collectively, signify our daily lives? Does our definition mimic our genuine values?For me, life’s interpretation is not about what I bring out or do not conclude. It is about who I am, who others are, and our act in relationships with each other. For me, life is not about performing, but rather about being.
I waste much of my time clocked up with classes, studying, work, and completing the essential errands that reality demands. The act of “doing” cannot be extinguished, or should it be. It is not in the “doing” that we mislay our meaning and purpose, but when the “doing” converts more valuable than just “being”. I am aware that I am often culpable of defining my own daily life by what I have attained throughout the day. Collecting away those deeds of “accomplishment” or achievement, I would characterize my life in a way that much more nearly resembles the person that I am and the fundamental values that endure within my soul. I would define my life by the love I consign and receive, by gratitude for blessings and prayers for those in need; by a balance of dedication to self and others, moments of exhilaration and harmony, the treasures of elegance and yearning; In terms of smirks and laughter, squeezes and kisses, words and affections, through artistry and dreaming, encouragement and taking chances, embracing and unleashing, comprehending and believing.
At the end of our lives, does it really matter if the lawn was mowed every Saturday? If we set aside work on a treatise in account of an afternoon spent in the company of our loved ones and the simplicity of nature? Does it matter if we worked hours overtime or did the laundry get done after dinner? For me, these are absolutely not the things that matter in the end. At the completion of my life, what will matter is that I have comprehended the strength also brittleness of love, that I have brought a difference in my own life and in others. For me, defining my everyday life means that I must intentionally embrace it, for what is it valued at the end.
Funny the things in life that makes us contemplate. I am speaking about those things that form a dead-stop in our paths, analyzing the purposes and mysteries of life; questioning how complex those meanings and mysteries appear. If only our minds could just contain the simpleness of life's happenings rather than twisting and turning each moment into an obscure web of chaos. But such simple mindedness evades me.
Instead, I discover myself submerging in myriad of emotions, riding the waves of life's highs as well as lows, reminiscing those life-altering episodes of my past, also dreaming of an unknown destiny. I discover myself trying to analyze of all those "what ifs" and generating alternate scenarios for my life. The irony is that I like my life right now, here in this place and in this age. It's not so much desire for something else, but rather a mind and heart copious with so much life that it cannot entirely be contained. These experiences and moments that have formed the abundance of my existence, made me into whom I am today and I am very content of it.
You are the archangel from my nightmares, the beast from my dreams. Pursuing me everywhere, you are besieging me it seems. I observe your shadow in the mirror, you are usurping over me. I cannot do anything to cease it, I just want to scream. Just want to holler and shout this fluid bubbling in my veins. Tauntingly you murmur, I hear you ululate my name. The darkness is conquering me, It's approaching from deep within. You are my inner incubus bursting out through veniality. Cannot take the feverish inside. The recollections, the gloominess that keeps coming back when you pass by; I recognize I cannot disguise. The demons are following me, don't want my past to mimic. Am I intended to live? or am I meant to forfeit this beat? The ache will not leave, the tears are dropping like rain. Is the closure I've been looking for not what I've retrain? Why will you not leave? You have another lover. What? Isn't she the fulfillment of your life's routine like you wanted it to be? I won't got through this, I already learned my lesson. I feel bad for her. She's not witty. She's been trapped in your bewitchment, oh how I feel the pity. "There's more than meets the eye" I've heard people say, but in you the only thing I see is nothing that is worth me losing nor to gain. Now it's all about me, stop doing for others. Yes, I might sound selfish, but hey, I have to continued what you interrupted. Go ahead with you mistress, just leave me alone. I know better than not to mess with you, stop tormenting me, just go!
I am aware most children go through the phase of "The Boggie Man" under the bed. Or the monster in the closet, but mine was entirely contrary from the rest of it. If you are frightened of the Boogie Man, you can actually sleep with Mom or Dad and you will be fine. With the closet monster you can just seal the door and it's done. With what I've experienced, noting could help at the time, expect getting over it on my own.
I remember it all clearly like if it was yesterday. I was like 7 or 8. I still cannot believe my parents let me go through this. Guess they wanted me to toughen up? I still cannot figure out the answer to it. All I know is that it happened and he still lingers. Who is he? Well, let me describe it for you.
"Welcome To Prime Time B*tch" He use to say. He lingers through the darkness. Waiting, just waiting for those innocent ones. The gullible type. Those who seem comfy between those warm blankets. Sleeping with a night light will relieve the fear. Sleeping with your parents either. He just will not go away. He never dies. He is still out there. A striped cherry and green sweater, old trousers, worn working boots and a green cat hat; that's was he wore. A glove with razor-sharp "finger knives". Disfigured, burned face. Just the thought of it make me relive the my childhood nightmare. And children use to sing this jingle that still gives me the creeps! "One, two, Freddy's coming for you...Three, four, better lock your door...Five, six, grab your crucifix...Seven, eight, gonna stay up late...Nine, ten, never sleep again."
By now, you should know who am I referring to. If not, let me introduce him to you. Here's Mr Kruger.
Photo by : Entertainmentblog.com
Yuck! His picture still makes my stomach turn. Yes this man hauntes you in your dreams! Who would want to sleep after watching his movies? I was terrified of this man. The ironic part this is I have seen all his movies. Yes, I have. Crazy isn't it? I just thought that by seeing all of his movies, waiting for him to die would actually help me overcome my fears. I was wrong. It got worse. I didn't sleep for years. Didn't want to take sleeping aid because I thought he would definitely get him. I was a total wreak! Don't ask me how I got over the fear. All I know is, I did. I sleep peacefully in my warm bed. I think it was so traumatizing that I blocked it out of my system. Nightmares. Some remaining with you, others fading not to comeback. But the flashbacks of them stay with you. Some firm, others growing dim.
