Nothing momentous to share of late. Various demands on my time and my quotidian routine are probably contributing to my current lack of dedication to write on this blog. Writing has never been easy for me anyway. To boot, my regret for not developing the right foundation with regard to reading and writing in my much younger years still weighs on me every so often. It would have made a difference I’m sure. I could have been a lot better at wordsmithing, and writing about any theme would have been a snap. Alas, I’ve always struggled at every single item I manage to pen here.
It seems I’ve overdosed as well on putting out mawkish materials that make me feel nauseated every time I review my prior posts these days. I’m itching once more to delete them all. At the same time, I’m aware the never-ending process of discerning my voice here through the odd congruence of my love for the people around me, my moderate degree of contentment, my inevitable melancholy, and my low-grade indifference continue to unfold. They might have already combined in abbreviating my essence, too.
For now, no foolish, unrestrained feelings have been confounding me since my heart has earlier on been freed from the shackles of needless emotions. I have waited for so long to arrive at this placid station in my life. Very liberating, in fact, as it has afforded me to think more clearly and focus better on loftier goals. Yet could it be that the sweetness I used to spread around is gradually turning into some hard and bitter marrow of truth?
And then there also have been countless times when I feel like I’m walking around empty. As if I were only half alive. Because the impact of my massive loss early this year still weighs heavily on me. I sometimes even find myself turning away from anything that would remind me of the joys I lapped up in times gone by.
Since when have I started learning to feign ease even though my spirits inside are dying one by one? It’s no use pretending I’ve completely moved on. I’ve gotten tired of anyone who’s eager to dictate to me the manner on how I should put my one foot in front of the other. For the truth is, my dearest one who has left the realm of the physical world continues to hold primary residence inside my mind. Yes, there has never been a day that he fails to enter my thoughts. It seems my sense of loss has indeed infiltrated an undiscovered region. A kind of sadness seems bracing itself to settle by my side permanently and I’ve become jaded enough to allow its impending presence. Or maybe my broken heart has gotten underway in finally surrendering to eternity.
Still, the reality of how we’ve been all living on borrowed time is palpable. More than ever. So I’m doing my best to secure my world from a fated rupture. I’m taking shelter in constructive diversions hoping they would help eclipse my reality no matter how short a time. The simple details of this life I’ll try my best to keep on cherishing – privately. I can indulge on looking at the drama of the drifting clouds in my sky above and know it’s all I have for that moment. To desist from taking the present moment for granted. It ought to remain as a promise to myself. After all, I’m still entitled to whatever is left for the merits of my future.
Yet I wonder if I ever would find again the stories I had lost through the midst of those painful times.