“You’ve never felt how small you are when looking at the ocean?” He laughed. “Never. Nor looking at the planets. Nor at mountain peaks. Nor at the Grand Canyon. Why should I? When I look at the ocean, I feel the greatness of man. I think of man’s magnificent capacity that created this ship to conquer all that senseless space. When I look at mountain peaks, I think of tunnels and dynamite. When I look at the planets, I think of airplanes.” – The Fountainhead
I’ve only walked some twenty years into my life and I happen to be oversensitive about every little episode that occurs. Is it true that young pain hurts the most, that it is the most livid? Is it just me or do gashes at this age really bleed the worst? All the agony at this point sometimes forces me to believe that the world should come to an end and that everything in my life is crashing down at an uncontrollable speed. Sometimes I lock myself in my room and curl up in a corner thinking that as I bleed under this debris You are off taking care of other people and that You can’t even hear me.
But how foolish is it of me to assume all that and more. How unobservant can I become at times to see nothing but my pain? I once read somewhere that hope is what takes birth in the dark; when you desperately want nothing but the dawn, hope will bring it to you. I know my dawn is on its way. I know I’ve been heard – not once, not twice but every single time that I curled up in that corner of my room, every time that I thought nobody could see or hear me.. I know You were there, You were right there.
To contemplate situations is normal I guess, but to become an over compulsive, super evaluative thinker can be dangerous when it comes to real life issues. I learnt that the hard way, but I’m glad I learnt it. Worrying about things that are and have always been beyond one’s control is like trying to reach an itch that’s in the deepest corner of your brain and there’s no way your hand would go there. Frustrations only build up to make that annoying itch even worse. But I’ve learnt.
I’ve learnt how to hide myself under an invisible cloak and escape into a world that only I know of. It all began here..
I sat on my bed and began to imagine. I imagined that I no longer existed physically – in the form of flesh and blood. I imagined that I had transformed into tiny particles that camouflaged with whatever pleased my heart. I swiftly transformed into the wind, the rainbow, the grass.. I transformed into feelings…I became the feeling of when you run your hands though the river.. I became the feeling when birds glide effortlessly into the endless sky. That was me, I was there. I was everywhere. I felt everything.
As I run wild into my imagination, peeling a layer after another, I realized that every single thought of mine could be full of bliss. I had an endless smile on my face. I saw myself blowing candles and then I became the flame on the candle myself – the flame that was set free, the flame that become smoke and then dispersed to share it’s being with the wind. Like I said, I was everywhere.
And then I became faces. I became emotions. I became you. That was when nothing was a secret, I could see through your body and soul – and you wouldn’t even know. Your thoughts, your gestures, your traits and your tone..all of you clandestinely became me. And your secret will never be solely yours unless you find a way to tame my curiosity and destroy my invisible cloak. But you will never be able to that because this isn’t any power, it’s an ability – one which each one of us posseses, it’s just that you’re unaware, you’re still inconsiderate. When I’ve seen what lies within you, I feel content. I have no regrets and I carry no expectations. I transform again and begin to run along the broken sidewalks – the buildings around are lacerated at weird angles – I run as fast as I can glowing with an orange light in the darkness of the night, smiling with all my heart, because you’re an open book to me – whenever I want it. Did I mention? I was everywhere.
Remember I said I was peeling a layer after another? I was peeling open my core. I was looking into my soul. And there came a point when I could touch the things I heard, when I could taste the things I felt and when I could feel the things I saw. The jigsaw of life soon became a puzzle picture which only smiled back at me – as if it was waiting for me to come play with it. It waited for some twenty years..
Take a picture of me today and hang it on your wall. For today I have asked time to freeze. This is my final imagination tonight –my bittersweet symphony.
I am held tightly by a fat caterpillar that nestles in its cocoon. I am in the same curled up position with my head hidden between my hands and the caterpillar embraces me with its warmth. I would never want to leave this place. But alas, the cocoon will break one day and my caterpillar will become an inharmonious muddle of colors with beautiful wings and its eye set on the sky. In the darkness of that cocoon is where my hope took birth and now I dream to have wings like my caterpillar; I refuse to be left behind. And even if my flight is maladroit, you will watch me fly; just wait and watch me fly.