It always starts with a gorgeous sunrise: from a spell of gloom and darkness brought about by the sun’s turning of back on this side of the world comes this explosion of slapdash palette in the firmament that could only leave the one looking up speechless in all awe and humility.
The past days the view of the sunrise from the hospital window had been the only single thing that motivated me to not go back to sleep yet even after the searing pain of intravenous interventions had jolted me to wakefulness during those ungodly hours of the night. I’ve always loved the early morning sky, that scenic transition of the night dramatically giving way to the day and you have all these cloudsbursts in shifting shapes and smudging hues that you just have to tell yourself, wow, can I die now?
But I especially love it when the sunrise is in its mighty inchoate state and its rays are blinding me and making me half-close my eyes: during such instances I find myself reveling by losing myself in the warm presence of its brilliance on my shut eyelids; it’s that sensation of being in the presence of something Higher and absolute that makes you feel how it is to be truly alive, and it makes you realize that no matter how dark the night becomes you know Light will always take flight and prevail.
Letting go and saying goodbye is something that I’m not good at handling. It’s hard for me to pretend that all is well to be parted from something just because it’s “part of life”, especially when I have connected myself to that something. And because of this it has dawned on me lately that maybe I’m not fit to be the individual that I am now, because I have the tendency to be too emotionally-attached and deep with my relations with people and experiences, so to be left, broken, betrayed, hurt or jilted in return is debilitating to me.
I’m not the kind of person who expects things in return for whatever it is that I offer, so why is it that in this regard, I’m in denial of change as something inevitable? People and things come and go out of the proverbial revolving door of life, and that’s the sour truth. Still what is beyond my control that I have to accept with dignified strength is a struggle for me.
Perhaps the least thing that I could do now is to be wary of giving too much of myself to the new people that I cross paths with. And to hope that somewhere down the line, when the “people” in my life now have decided to move on with their lives without me, they will not forget that once upon a time, someone like me had only the best intentions for them with all selflessness on her part.
I don’t tell my friends and family to read, much less comment, on the things I churn out here. No, I’m not hiding things from them, after all how could I possibly keep things from them with their excellent prying skills? It’s just that I don’t like my thoughts to be affected by the thought bubbles of their impending buttjokes once they get to read me here. See the thing is offline I’m not really an emo who loves talking about herself; I’m the complete opposite, and my friends and family know me that way: they think that downgrading myself, making fun of narcissistic people and contemplating on the absurdities of life is the be-all and end-all of my character, and so for them to get to read “very personal things” about me in the strain of In Other Words would be a wellspring of guffaw for them. Douche loved ones.
They do know though that I write poetic garbage. I think they know too that I blog or something. But what they don’t know is that my blog is where I pour out my truth, genuine thoughts and everything I deem beautiful and that it’s not a soundboard for empty complaints, entertainment blahs and yarnball stories in dire need of screaming attention. And they don’t know that the purpose of this blog is to kind of chronicle my plans, since I believe that by making my missions in life sort of public I’m reinforcing their closeness and palpability, hence the realness of my self-imposed fate.
One day I will disappear from the midst of my friends and family because of personal pursuits. Although they know that I have plans of taking on a global adventure, they don’t have an idea that I am serious in dropping all the comfort and material wealth of the city life in exchange of living the life I want to live. They’ll most probably won’t get my being a wanderlust, but I hope that by leaving this blog for them to dissect once I’m gone, they’ll understand me and relent.
Impractical, yes. Easier said than done, true. To say farewell to everything I’ve connected to, I’m bad at it. But now that I’ve pretty much disentangled myself from the embrace of Grim Reaper and travelling, meeting new people, becoming an international photojournalist and a relief volunteer being my passions, I’ve never felt like a sun on the rise again.
Sometimes, you have to go away so you can come back.
Thank you all for the prayers. They worked 😉