Starting today, I’m going to try experiment with migrating this blog over to Tumblr for various reasons. The decision may or may not be permanent, depending on how well it goes. The URL for the new site will be:
http://choosing-the-unmarked-road.tumblr.com/
Thanks for reading!
Last night I gazed out of my bedroom window, up towards the night sky. I searched…what I was searching for, I did not know, but I searched – possibly for company, I searched; maybe for consolation – or an answer, perhaps… I searched. But no matter how long I probed the skies and how strenuously my eyes examined, the night proved only an empty canvas of nothing but black.
Disheartened, I switched off my desk lamp and closed my laptop, preparing to face a lonely night. Before lowering the blinds, I took a final glance out towards the evening – and my eyes came to rest upon a single point of shimmering light that seemed to be poked into the empty sky. The longer I gazed at it from my dark room, the brighter and larger the dot seemed to become, and suddenly, hundreds of other sparkling specks came into view, and the once-blank canvas seemed sprayed with silver droplets of paint, like thousands of tiny eyes watching from the sky above.
And I awoke to realize that they were always there. That they will always be there, pointing the direction in which I’m meant to go. That no matter how many distractions cloud them from my sight, no matter how invisible they seem when searching from amid the clump of obstructions, it is always I who cannot find them and not they who cannot find me. And I realized that it’s time to turn off all those bright lights that have been shining right in my face and keeping me blind – it’s time to rise and find the original path I’ve strayed so far from, and pray that I will always be able to find those guiding eyes.
Blank. Nothing. When I plunge to the depths of my mind, when I search the corners of my heart, I find everything simply blank. I probe my thoughts for something meaningful to say, something worth expressing, but come up with nothing worth telling. Normally, I would be remorseful for this lack of thought or meaning, but lately I have found the symphony of silence to be the best accompaniment for those measures of life sung in sudden solo.
In silence, there is peaceful recuperation. In anonymity, there is no outside fear or interference.
The only fears left to face now are my own – the only enemy left to fight now is myself; and now without the piercing cacophonies of the past, it is time to find who I am… who I once was, before I became this helpless mess.
There is no background music now. There are no wise words to speak, nothing to ease the stillness.
But maybe it’s better this way.
