An afternoon into space

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And for another moment in my life, I crave again. For the saltwater kissing my feet, for the dirt and dust hugging me, for all the places and spaces I could run and walk along, I crave. There is this gentle impatience within my heart that wants and wants and screams for something else, for the things that are rather and the things that would be. I try to hush these screaming desires with the silence I pose in the surface. While the world talks and goes about, I contemplate my life and regulate the noise within my system. I have to shut it up right now or it would pain me to think of the things that are yet. I just want for things to happen, for them to really happen. In a way that everyday is a new set of skies, and every minute is an unfamiliar street. I want to see more and I want to go beyond beyond. 

All I am right now is another speck of a dreamer under the navy skies. All I can be sure of right now is that I am uncertain of what will be, and that I will never know what's about to conspire until it unfolds. All I can do is live in the moment and let myself take the minutes into slow and sure strides. Tomorrow is patiently waiting. And all I am doing is towards it. Patience has not always been all I am, but it's all I could be as of now. 

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Impatience is not all the source of my staring-into-nothing spree this afternoon. There is something that makes me think. Maybe it is the ghosts of the mistakes and failures, of the misses and wrongs, of all the things ugly and sad that I've ever encountered. I don't know, but I ended up too doped by these things unknown that I don't wanna delve into anything interesting. Is it cradling this uninteresting and boring feeling that I am currently having what I am doing right now? Unsure of anything really as of the moment. 

I don't even know if I want to pause the clock or speed by to the future awaiting. I understand nothing, and I can hardly translate to myself these weird, lapsing heartbeats. Why am I so up in the nothingness that I find no life in this afternoon? And right now, I am approaching midnight. And all these minutes I let pass without proper shepherding of the time. This is quite disturbing---the feeling of emptiness and nothingness---but what have I to do? It may be because I want a lot of things right now or may be because I am trying to keep myself at rest from all the chaos in the world, that I have to listen to my own chaos, tat which is within me. I don't know. Theories, theories, theories. We have so much of them I can't indulge the world with another set of theories. Anyway, I was hoping that writing these would help me somehow. As if I could vent the emotions into this writing machine. 

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What could I do? What could I hope for? My life is stuck in between. Between the feeling of too much life and blood and the feeling of emptiness and hunger, between the feeling of rage and music and the feeling of quiet and silence, between the feeling of pride and the feeling of insecurities, between the feeling of confidence and the feeling of uncertainty. I am a lot of things. And I am mostly unsettled. I hope in the One who has an eye for what has to come and an eye that reaches the depths of souls. I look up to Him to fill the emptiness and to still the raging desires. Because my humanness demands and demands and it is never filled enough. And in all these, I end up hoping. Praying. Trusting. It will soon be. It will be. Soon. 

A Note to the Restless

Dear Me, 

You are feeling excited for the things yet to come. I know that there's some kind of a craving deep within your soul. You want to see more of the world. You want to see more of the oceans. You want to drown and come out alive. 

You want to read more thoughts--thoughts from all these interesting people. You want to read all these ideas from the dead. You want to see the world that once was. You want to unravel the mysteries that will never unfold. 

You want to keep your feet busy. You want to hit the road. You want to hit the skies. You want to witness a series of sunsets and sunrises in front of your very eyes. You want to watch the world while you're moving. 

You want a lot of things. You want to smell the mixture of the sun and the rain. You want to feel midnight and high noon. You want to feel the sand melt with saltwater right under your body. 

Your dreams melt your pain. You forget the pain that has been lingering around your heart. You start to forget the uncertainties that wrapped your thoughts. You now want to break free. You are in awe of reaching the distant. 

And you just can't wait. You just can't breathe. You want it now. But you want it for later. You want to go now. But you are waiting for the right timing.

I tell you, despite all your longings and cravings, be still. 

Be still, my dear. Be still.

The pace is perfect. 

The road has been prepared. 

Be still while you're restless. 

Love, You.

Places within the pages

I started to shrink to unreality these past few days.

When I say unreality, I mean dreams and imaginations or worse, places within the pages. Yes, I don't think they are good for the soul, well anyway, but they could be good, too. I don't really know.

People were given minds that could compensate for their ideas and ideals, so they should be maximized, not be slightly used and not be overused because both extremes could be dysfunctional. Anyway, yeah, I think I may be overusing this little brain sometimes, or probably I just have a huge brain especially made for me, 'cause as far as I am aware, I don't feel any screw loosening yet (And, I could contradict myself easily). Another anyway, I want to go to places I've never been, especially places that could hardly be real because I thought it would be romantic. When you say romantic, it doesn't have to be with a guy, right? A place could be called romantic even if there were no people there (or maybe because couples will actually love it being there? ugh. Devalues the worth).

I'll start with: RIGHT NOW I WANT TO GO PLACES I'VE NEVER BEEN. Imma rant this time.I want to go to Pemberley, to North Carolina (where, interestingly, I've found most love stories written), Green Gables, Maryland, where else, hunh? Oh yes, where was the Secret Garden located? I just wonder to what castle did Cinderella leave her slipper, or the coast roads where protagonists took their twists and turns. The house on the little prairie and other places where Laura Ingalls-Wilder spent her colorful youth. I'm thrilled just thinking about the Cemetery of the Books! Many else. What will I do there then? Just walk along these places and leave my footprints there, or probably live there for a week or two or a year or just a little while will do. Just try to witness what could have happened or what change would there be if a single feature from the place is located differently.

I don't want to imagine though that I am Lizzie Bennett or Anne Shirley, and try to mimic and live their lives. I just want to walk these places as myself rather than pretend be the characters I love. I don't know but I just don't feel like imagining I am a certain character, especially those that I love, it feels creepy and insane. Sometimes, I thought it would be better if I have been there for me to really be a part of the places and for my presence to be a part of other people's imaginations, but I realized I am doing a greater part being the thinker, being the one who imagines it all.

Aww, okay. My thoughts become so excited it explodes to randomness.

Sometimes, I think it does well to think of things which are alien to us, some of these, they really do exist. Of course, some of these are just imaginations. It doesn't do that because we don't see them, they are already fictional. Some exist somewhere within the wide earth, while some of these they do exist, but they are found within the worlds within our thoughts, and some were already part of what's past kept alive by memories and memoirs.

Someday, I know I will get to these places given the chances in life. Well, I could only go physically to the places which are literally real. And who knows who I'm going with. Hahaha

(As I was ending this blog post, I felt like there's music playing, probably the OST for Anne of Green Gables animated. Hahaha)

Some places in the classics (I don't know if the others are just replicas or they are the real ones):

ANNE SHIRLEY'S LIFE:

Anne's fictional room

Green Gables (fictional, I think)

Avonlea entrance

Road along Avonlea

Obviously, the places in Anne's life are my favorites. You've gotta read Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea to understand. Unfortunately, I haven't read the other books yet.

Here are others:

The ever dear SECRET GARDEN (fictional)

North Carolina beach

Little House on the Prairie (production design for the film, I think)

Pemberley (not sure if legit)