talking of Michaelangelo.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
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visitations // 12:47 am
God, I'm going to stop apologizing for my lack of posts and my absences. They'll come when they're meant to. I'm sitting here, wrapped in a humongous blanket, huddled in a little corner, typing away. It's
cold. Someone said I've become a summer child. Winter is here sans snow, but it's still
cold.
Recently, I went back to the past via a book.
The Giver. I went back and it was an unexpected journey because I saw my change reflected from my interpretations of the book. The ten year old K got something completely different out of it. Not that it's a surprise but... it's beautiful, visitations to the past. It's like a little self-discovery. I liked it, I liked seeing the same thing with a different pair of glasses. Vessels, hm.
Anyway, on a completely separate note, I had to jot it down. I've kept it grasped in my mind for awhile and I need to record it before the strings of memory completely fade from me. So I was on the bus, going who knows where, I've forgotten already but I saw a father and his little daughter, just a toddler. A plump, bald father, not too old and his daughter, sitting on his lap, pressed her head against his chest and fell fast asleep. Her little mouth, a bit open and her little hand on his arm. I saw her tiny, tiny fingers curling about his large arm in such a secure, comfortable manner. Her lips moving slightly as she muttered in her dreamworld. It was such
security, such absolutely trust in the world. The little, gentle curling of the fingers. A tender, warm little moment, gave me the fuzzies. Also, in my nasty, tainted little mind, I felt sad. Sad that this innocence. this trust and security, being able to fall so completely into slumber... it may soon be taken away from her. Wrested away by negativity and anger of the world. So I sat there and look at her, I wished her a good dream, I hoped she could stay for as long as she could, problem-free with all that trust in the world.
Explorations now, in existential philosophy. I've forgotten about my responsibility to explore and discover and self-discover. Always ask questions, never stop until satisfied.
Self-awareness. Hm.
