Call me a lover with fireworks in the eyes
But tonight I am writing about you
The words out of pure connection
Along the lines
Will we ever learn how to quit?
Goodbye to the daisies in the streets
But not to the dream fort of our life
The garden is growing a kingdom
Illuminated, breathing soft
Of bluebells welcoming your presence
That echoes mine under your wing
as we are each other’s home
In her own fears she looks through her shadows
I watch her from the horizon with flowers for algernon
in hands, pondering whether the lines are connecting
or they never were
At times like this dreams are safer than the voices
But sometimes it’s just her longing
with the side effect of pills
visualizing her fears, into reality
It’s kicking in, things can be seen
The sea is calling, he is calling
I wish I can do something
but where do I keep the voices?
I don’t occasionally come up with great ideas and great explanations all at the same time but when I do, I find myself lacking of interest to share with people. So I keep them inside my head until I forget.
If I were to say one thing that I take notice of what I’ve been doing unintentionally would be this: I am constantly missing out. Off and on I have overlooked for what is directly in front of me; it’s either I look at things too far or I look at them too closely. Opportunities. Decisions. People. Kindness. Love. To me, 2015 was an actual mess. Not because I missed these things from one end to the other, but because I already had them at the beginning. However, life has a funny way of showing it through passing time – until you decide to wake up one morning and suddenly you become aware of what you’re actually missing.
It only makes sense looking back. It’s easy to find yourself thinking, “Oh! I should have done that,” “What was I thinking back then?” or “Things would be different now if I made it” but what’s harder to me is to accept what you actually did. There’s always a hypothetical scenario inside the head to give in. Another story from the future to flee. Another regret from the past to dwell. But thoughts are only thoughts. Just because they’re happening inside your head doesn’t mean they are also happening on the outside. Like all things that we lose, there are also things that come to us. Meanwhile we’re too busy spending too much time on our own second guesses – to some extent, we disregard the fact there’s more ahead us. More opportunities. More decisions. More people. More kindness. More love. Maybe what’s been waiting for us is completely different from the ones we missed, but they’re going to be better things.
Last year I took most things for granted. And to me it’s prudent to be more grateful, for the things that missed me, and for the things that I missed. I suppose if these things; the unmade choices and the overlooked chances, if these are bound for the future, they will always find their own ways to come back. If they didn’t, then it’s another different story to unfold. And right now, it comes to my understanding that I feel compelled to keep moving forward in order to repay all the missing chances and slipping success. Hence will I still keep missing things? Yes I’m afraid so. But here’s the question to self: Will there be an urge to start all over- the rage of carrying on in spite of the inevitable turns that will only make you doubt yourself?
Don’t think the waiting stops today. It never stops. Like a circle, there is no end to it.
I’m still going places, and so is the waiting.