Halfway There

Charon, Pluto’s beloved son – he rowed the fragile boat through the dark blue waters of the Styx.  It was all pitch black except for the little oil-lamp which had been lit before they began their journey.

Lovely Athene sat below him, silent as a child, unbeknownst of their final destination.  The vagueness of the mist which had so far enshrouded the air (if it were air they were breathin’)  was nothing to her beautiful grey eyes; in all her purity, her vision pierced through every bit of haze, thick and thin.  Her ivory white skin reflected on the murky waters as if they were but glass.  And her ears – she listened to hear, but she heard nothing.  Nothing could be heard.  Nothing spoke of life itself; except for the swishing of Charon’s oars through the mystical river.  She was all alone in this journey.  Or was she?

For out of the whitish-grey fog, something big and dangerous (at least, it appeared so) scooted away from the back of a huge boulder to another.  Just what was that?  Athene asked herself. More importantly, should she proceed?  Or should she turn back?

Going back where I come from is decidedly an incredibly long way.   Much time has been consumed – it must have been years, in fact; no, decades, that I have lost count.  Now I am so deeply entangled within the web of myelineated axons and dendrites, like Athene who is so deeply lost in the surreal gloom, and yet steadily emerges out of the Valleys from Charon’s boat.

Athene knows she is very close to the surface of the Darkness, where Artemis the Goddess of Light shall triumph in all her glory.

I presume I am more than halfway there, too, that the answers are going to sprout up sooner or later.  Which is so because I have noticed.  It is as if I am wiping clean an old window pane that has not been dusted for centuries, and it gets clearer with every swipe.

This is of course quite exciting, in all events.  The eyes capture a glimpse of hope shimmering from the East; Dawn breaks and dew from the midnight rain cools the air with a magical mist.  I must leave, and go ahead on my journey.

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Fly With Me

I may not be exactly so much – no, not in adequate proportions – but yet I consider myself an extremely artistic person.  I like to imagine my little notebook as my guitar where I play my notes on.

Call me crazy… maybe.

There is nothing wrong in that.

What goes on in my mind you do not know.  And say what you wish, I do not mind even.  I do not even know what matters are playing in your head.  Really.  Our perceptions are not all similar.

Uh-huh.

I assume I must have gotten so drunk over my music, for it depicts the buried treasures of feelings beneath the sweetly adorned grave, however deep down they may be from the surface, washed off in the rain and thunderstorm and covered by the dampened, soiled earth.  Events that go by do not oftentimes (I do not know why, but I dread this word – oh, yeah, that is out of topic so I shall bring it up later) make sense.

Nonetheless, there exists a factor in the human nature… a component known as resilience, that makes us stand so far apart from one another.  The factor that puts us up on our two feet constantly, always chasing our dreams, big and little.  That sets us running forward, never to be pulled back, climbing ountains so high and diving into seas so deep.  That seemingly brings us so close to our pinnacle  by only an inch, only to have it snatched away by another Dream-Chaser.  Which we drown ourselves into, only to watch it melt slowly away in all the heated commotion.

But we just go on our journey in a more lighted path.  We can’t stop.  Because we won’t stop.

I am like… yes!

Come.  Fly with me.

Confidence is one big part that keeps us going.

Confidence is one big part of us that keeps us going.  (The Author when her hair was still untreated.  Photo credits to photographer Ekamil Razali.)

Red Scarlet

Living a Goal-directed Life

George Bernard Shaw once claimed that he wanted to die all used up.  Do you notice there is a lot of goal-directed meaning in it.

Life with purpose is much more meaningful, much more satisfying to the individual.  Ah, the music I am listening to is quite distracting.  My thoughts are drowning themselves in the whirlpool of words and music.  But well, I might continue writing.

It is the fact that, if you do the necessary math, with all the petty calculations, you realize that there is not much time to be used.  Taking time into consideration, resources pop up in the picture.

Dying used up – when all of yourself has been invested in worthwhile matters.  This not only includes successes, but also failures.  The satisfaction that comes with knowing that you have at least attempted to do something; there is nothing more fulfilling than that.  Trust me.

For doing so brings wisdom, the know-how of paths which to take up along the way.  It puts your life to place, setting your focus on one direction: toward the way of success.

Everyone wants to achieve some kind of pinnacle in their lives.  They want so much to climb the tallest mountain, to cross the deepest seas, and to jump over the highest hurdle… they sometimes forget about what the gear they need to bring along to keep themselves through.

Well, ready your own gear.

Red Scarlet