Imagination is such a powerful thing. It fulfills abstractions. It shapes the soft mellows of memory into a distinct canvas, vibrant and lively. It transforms a monotonous day into a splendid one. It takes the insipid journey through days and makes it an adventure to thrive for. And sometimes, it hides in a shell, refuses to come out and bars itself in a cast iron cage, locking from the inside and sits in a dark corner, not talking, not seeing, not thinking, not whispering its musings. It does it like a pesky little kid who is used to getting his way. When the needed attention is lost, it pouts and throws tantrums. Sometimes, those tantrums are heard and sometimes, they are cast aside.
Today, I seem to feel a little void inside me that is frustrating. I have these splendid dreams to shoot across the sky and shine like a star and somewhere along the way, the morbid sequential life took its toll on me. I try to look back on the days to find a semblance of imagination that took me wild by its wind and pushed me to the unchartered waters. I find none. Is it time to change something in life, to feel that inspiration to cut across the tide and stand on the board, surfing the high tide?
Far across from the land, in the distant sea, is a beacon of light, standing against the rough waters, shining proud and tall, giving a ray of hope. Once in a while, survivors embrace that beacon, when the waters threaten to swirl beneath. There, in the far skies, is a ray of light. Its cast like a blessing, embracing the earth below, pushing it into a spotlight. The survivors look through the glass window, staring at the spotlight, braving the turmoil beneath, in the hope of reaching the land, some day, one day. All is not lost, while hope stares back at you. Just like the survivors, I stare at the distant sky, hoping that one day, I will shine like a star, while, today, I brave my fumbles. I imagine fumbling through the journey, but still reaching the destination, smiling at my triumph. But today, I just sit on a rock under the scorching sun, catching my breath and soaking up the sun. The heat is unforgiving, but, I need it.
Today, I seem to feel a little void inside me that is frustrating. I have these splendid dreams to shoot across the sky and shine like a star and somewhere along the way, the morbid sequential life took its toll on me. I try to look back on the days to find a semblance of imagination that took me wild by its wind and pushed me to the unchartered waters. I find none. Is it time to change something in life, to feel that inspiration to cut across the tide and stand on the board, surfing the high tide?
Far across from the land, in the distant sea, is a beacon of light, standing against the rough waters, shining proud and tall, giving a ray of hope. Once in a while, survivors embrace that beacon, when the waters threaten to swirl beneath. There, in the far skies, is a ray of light. Its cast like a blessing, embracing the earth below, pushing it into a spotlight. The survivors look through the glass window, staring at the spotlight, braving the turmoil beneath, in the hope of reaching the land, some day, one day. All is not lost, while hope stares back at you. Just like the survivors, I stare at the distant sky, hoping that one day, I will shine like a star, while, today, I brave my fumbles. I imagine fumbling through the journey, but still reaching the destination, smiling at my triumph. But today, I just sit on a rock under the scorching sun, catching my breath and soaking up the sun. The heat is unforgiving, but, I need it.
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