one of the scariest/strangest things in life is that you move on without you realising.

or is it?

alright. I'm back to the infinite compound space again where the next leap of faith will filter the options down to the inevitable course of my life.
But before that, there is also that inevitable anxiety or dread that comes before every movement.
I am at that stage now. Staring at and being stared back by the universe.

don't understand? don't bother. I don't too. my mind is at a blank and because it is, it is actually filled up. woah.

one of the worst anxieties in life is to be anxious of peace. the more you hope for, the more you are anxious. hence, peace never comes.

just let the wind blow you.

thanks anyway for giving me back the confidence to write.
especially the confidence to write about nothing.

i welcome the coming of the leap day, a reminder that our calenders are lived constructs. Happy birthday to those born on that day. Cool. Why am I not one of them? But I love my birthday too.

hope is an indulgence and a skepticism. faith is not.

i miss blackforest cakes.

where am I?
oh.
Now I get it.

Pain is better defined as being familiar with losing after gaining than losing without any previous possesion. The latter would be no more than a simulation of pain, and that kind of speaks more about the self indulgence than a genuine gaping hole made by ripping a part of you.

Therefore, youth, for all its sweetness and mirth, never understands silences, pain and charity. It just know its gains and excuses itself for its indulgences and simulated lacks.

Age then takes away what youth rightfully gains (that is the nature of youthfulnes), which is an irony. Youth gains age that age may take away what youth has gained. Age gives as much as it takes. That is why it is so beautiful. Vintage wine tastes good because it is not pretentious. It reminds us of both the sweetness of gain (of a youth lost) and the bitterness of loss (of an age gained).

You know it is silent because you once heard music, noise or just those familiar sounds you hear; and now they disappear.

You know pain because you once gained something to know how painful it is to lose it later on.

You know charity because you were once loved to know what love means to the person who receives it.

I love butterflies. For all its ugliness, growing up, metamorphoses, cocoons, beauty and their guises and the withering of the wings as they fall to the ground. The cycle continues. And they are for me the hardest to paint on a canvas.

impressions of life. I love them.

fleeting images last longer if they fleetingly capture your imagination.

so rest easy when the going gets hard.

because there is more to love than the concrete jungle of indulgences out there.

and appreciation goes to where appreciation is due, despite all its delays and belatedness.

and it's always so sweet to know you're missed and have someone to miss.

remember me when I fade and leave a lasting impression.

:)

life is alone. but without that little bit of imagination of the person you miss,
presences remain absences.
make absences lasting presences.

you don't feel alone because you are alone.
you feel alone because there is someone missing who makes you feel alone.

alas, i realise how simple it all is.
to all and myself: remember me knowing that I am already meant to be gone.

I am; a weird mixture of quirky porportions.
and I like it.
:)

most weirdly. I like this compound state. Time to embrace possibilities and infinity. Before they push forward and drown you with the inevitable.

yes. the problem is with choice. and we hopelessly (pun intended) live by them.

I hope I stop hoping.

I am being.
that's better.
convince me. destiny.