Sunday, April 10, 2011
At Times
At times, I wish I’m strong – no, not brave ‘coz I’m already brave – enough to get myself off the sea of convention, expectations, hypocrisy and ego and crawl ashore to live life beyond the pressures of the waves. So I could stride, walk on my feet carelessly and freely. So I could live the life exactly how I see it best. Apparently, things are way complicated than it should be. The society that engulfs us, no matter how assuring and genial it tries to demonstrate, can’t conceal the savage veracity of the invisible strings of social structure and constructs that govern the human existence. That freedom can cause you a treasure even in the most democratic, tolerant and just society. But then, such society can’t be real, which makes freedom beyond price.
At times, I want to pack my things up – basic stuff – and journey to wherever trail my heart and my feet lead me. I want to live in a far away barrio, under a nippa hut with a gas lamp. I want to teach children to read, to write, to sing and dance, and to open their eyes wide enough to see things beyond possessions and worldly ambitions. I want to break a back plowing the rice fields beneath the scorching sun. And think that life is that every dip of my deformed and calloused feet further in the dirt, every twist and bend, and every implant of sapling I made into the muddy earth. To live. Makes daily living and being in the moment less trivial and emerge above the rat race the world has made. I want to spend slow afternoons sitting on a bench in a shade, along a dusty unpaved road, chatting and listening to the stories of some old folks. I don’t mind giving them a hand here and there. I want to stay in a remote peasants’ village and be a waitress and a singer in a diner. And laugh with loud rancid mouths’ hoot and chuckle showing every nook of their crooked and rotten teeth. And think that all we see now are just inventions of the modern world, that we can actually live and be happy without them. That life, with all its complications, is simple.
At times, I want to get lost in the wilderness and be the wild. At times, I want to be alone at the tip of the ocean or on top of the mountain, away from the noise and rambles of the superficial and unnatural world; so I could unmistakably hear my thoughts, so I could vividly see the road, so I could delicately feel the essence of life.
At times, atheist as I am, ruled by reasons and evidences, I do want to believe that magic is real. And many times I’m tempted to surrender and be consumed by the magnificence the world radiates, of which I almost equate to magic. But Science makes things comprehensible. However, at times, the beauty succeeds plate tectonics or evolution is too overwhelming that makes me await for more meaning. But then again, it’s only the romanticism of human adds wonder to it. And I know, I don’t go anywhere by putting magic in the formation of mountains when there is none. The world is wonderful as it is and so as life.
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