I won’t use some over used metaphor for life, like a wave in the ocean or the wind. Instead, I’ll call it what it is, an endless stream of time. It does not ripple nor does it waver. It does not stop, nor does it hesitate. It is emotionless but just. It flows continuously without delay and leaves those that are left behind.
The shores of Batangas did me well. There was something ineffable about sitting on the sand staring far at the edge of the earth. It did not melt my problems away, but rather gave me the chance to capture that elusive feeling of worth and realization. I was a rock among broken shells and corals — unmoving and inanimate. During these chaotic times wherein I constantly find myself lost in the flashing images in my mind, and whispering voices in my head, I found a moment of traquility and peace. The questions started to file, coming forth one by one like civilized men rather than stampeding in like a pack of wild beasts. I found some answers that made me feel like I was being dragged to the bottom of the ocean to exist within the darkness among the unknown and undiscovered without so much as the luxury of breath. But more importantly, it gave me a glimmer of hope and clarity. Life leaves those that are left behind, and I refuse to belong among the debris that mark this path of broken dreams. I am broken, maybe beyond repair, but not shattered beyond recognition. I thought I was in the process of withering and destruction. Then I realized, this is not a state of withering and destruction, but rather a state of resistance. Life takes what it can, when it can, and man resists when he finds courage and strength to do so.
I am in pieces, more than I have ever been, and I probably will be for quite some time. The words that stain my arm has brought this epiphany on me, “ad astra per aspira.” To the stars through difficulties. Now I see nothing but my stars and brace myself for the difficulties ahead.
