Happy Sunday everyone! I don’t have anything prepared for this week’s Wander Weekly so I figure for this entry I am going to simply scribble my thoughts down and make the words as I go.
Two things fill my mind lately. First is the start of my most favorite season, and second is the fast approaching moment of my birthday. Two things that I used to look forward to when I was younger, two things that I used to wish would last longer, but now haunts me like a phantom, like malevolence itself is chasing after my fragile heart and there is no way for me to go, no exit door for me to escape to, no alleyways for me to duck and take cover.
When I turned 19 about a few years ago, I assured myself that I wasn’t lost and that I was only drifting, roaming, wandering like a feather in flight. The breeze was my friend and the rays of sunshine were the only light that fed me and kept me alive, and the vastness of the world in which I occupy only a tiny space was my home.
In a matter of days, I am going to turn a year older and I tell myself the same thing, only with a more forceful assertion and with a stronger reassurance that this time things might be a lot easier.
I find myself at the crossroad of a crusade, inside the quarter of a time spent and traded for foolish people and for foolish things. I am lost more than ever, a lonely satellite in space resembling the tragic Sputnik, waiting for its time to blast into pieces.
The older people around me laugh at the way I openly embrace this cynicism and tell me I am too young to feel so old. But what is the difference anyway? I feel like I already died when I was 19, when I lied to myself that I was only wandering to mask the truth that I really didn’t know how to navigate through life. And even at 21, I felt like the turbulence of my youth has already bid its farewell and taken my time.
But you see, even in the midst of this melancholy I am still glad to say this: that at least I made it to another birthday, to another year.
It is not as believable when you only think of it in your head than when you speak the words out loud. So you tell yourself out loud, “Happy Birthday to you.”