Thursday, May 24, 2012

Shoe Gazing

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(Feet hanging from the back of a tricycle, March 2012)

It was not too long ago when I raved about how I lack adventure in my life. One night, I came home with all these thoughts bursting to be written on paper. I remember nursing this heavy feeling about how hard it is to live in the moment. Reading them now, its funny what you're capable of writing when embraced with a sudden rush of emotions. 

I then went to several trips with friends on different occasions hoping it would somehow bring color to my slowly becoming monochromatic existence. It turns out that all I ever needed was an escape. I was wrong to think that there is something missing; because first, nothing in this world is really ours, and second, I may not have everything I want but I have enough. I always seem to leave this last part out. 

But what happens between now and the next scheduled getaway? We drag ourselves from our warm beds, we wait for the water to boil, we clean and change our clothes only to have them dirtied again. And we wage through endless traffic wasting time to get to where we're supposed to be. And by the time we reach our destinations, we ask ourselves, is this really where I'm supposed to be? That same reoccurring and unanswerable thought.

Ironically, we think we can solve this mystery by going out there and finding ourselves in the process only to be lost again (how cliche). And some endings finish with that realization that the thing you were searching for was right where you left off. 

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