Happiness is I: Belated
Thursday, July 5, 2007
From the beginning, from the very first realization, from the first time my eyes caught the bright and warm sunlight, the sun has left me breathless, and hanging with different mumbling thoughts. Sometimes, I wish for the sun's non-existence, but then again, that's just me being selfish and fearing death for myself.
High above, I have nothing else to look at, but the sun. And with the drawing of eyes upwards, frustrations, silent screams, angst, everything rises with it. Then, one blinding wave of light, and I sigh, as I always have in the past, and release all of it, only to be caught in a different day.
And now, I continue. I will prance around, mock myself and everybody else, sing songs in my head, shout and scream, kick and jump, run around in circles, shoot some bullets through my head, lie down on a stone bench somewhere near a soccerfield, eat and lose my appetite, speak of nothing, and smile. I have nothing, and yet I do so much. What is it that I can attain, reaching out, only to get burned? This is how I feel. And this much, I hate about the sun.
And yet, here I am, awaiting the next day, the next highlighting of the distant horizon with orange-yellow lining, the next horizontal wave of scalding heat, the next glaring session, the next turning of head to the western direction, and the next
Dellusional, me thinks as well. But it's either this, or I lose my sanity. Neither of which is any good, so I weigh the chances and the risks and the consequences. And no matter how much I would love to just lose my sanity and go on a roadrage in a nearby community establishment, the sun's indirect language will always be the better option. Obsessed is the appropriate word.
I smile, for I cannot speak for myself. I cannot embroider in this writing the words I want to say, to blurt out, to tell to the sun. A mixture similar to that of salt and water in, well, saltwater, expression is almost impossible. Sharing of words seems so wrong and ridiculous. Awkward, I might add. To the sun, I am nothing but a common memory of the past. To me, the sun is.. it is what I will always watch out for, what will make my feet fly off a few good meters of the ground out of sheer surprise, what will make my heart thump and break its chambers when i'm feeling its warmth, what will make my eyes feign a dazed behaviour, only to chance a minute glimpse of the it. To me, the sun, and everything that it is, is what i'm sitting down for in an after-class session in the soccer field, thinking in definitive silence. I smile. I can only smile, hoping that you think not of me as the hypocritical snob, the biggest loser, the most indifferent bastard you had ever known. The words I wish to convey, are lost, even before I think of them, the moment I swim aimlessly in those dark, deep eyes.
Alas, my time is up, and what I do to myself, as I watch the sun endlessly, is taking its toll, hard and inevitable. Reality, I have ignored you for so long. Now, it's time for you to sink in, and for memories of the sun to come out and be free of my delirious mind. Ah, fate, I have played you well, and though I may lose to you, you have to give credit my unrelenting determination, or rather, dellusion. You can now laugh without having to worry about pitying me. I accept defeat, rather valiantly, if I say so myself.
To the sun, worry yourself not (though really, you don't).
I
smiled at the sun again @ 9:50 AM,
