Bookmark #859

To tell others how we truly feel, and then, to grant ourselves the same privilege is something I wish for all of us. To be honest in a way a child, who comes across as rude to a stranger, simply for their untouched, unmarred honesty. And to be as humble and calm as the understanding stranger, who does not bat an eye and often laughs and lets it go as the parents, if they are around, profusely apologise to them. To put it short, I wish innocence on all of us. But as I sit here, convoluted notions already crunching me, as they do all of us, like vines in some second-rate scary film, where the special effects are far too visible, far too apparent, but we ignore them. We suspend our disbelief, as they put it, and it seems we have done the same with our lives. I wish all of us would open our eyes now and then. At least, I am willing to try. I am eager to pour my heart out like you would pour paint on a blank canvas lying on the floor as you play around with colour, again, as children do. A lot of it has been left in bittersweet memories of summers that did not end and winters that were cosy beyond measure. A lot of it is simply left behind, like a book that falls behind the others, by itself. It is by no means unreachable, but until no one does inventory when the library is sold to an unnamed mogul or the sort, it is lost to time. Where is that book? Where is that sweater I wore when I was fifteen and January was too cold? Where is the allure of saying what truly comes to my mind? Where is the temerity, and why has it been tempered? All questions fit for a cold evening following an otherwise warm day. All without answers.

I reckon there are parts I can still change and fix. I reckon in this wish for innocence is masked a personal need, some vendetta against the world which I would admit if the world had not made me dishonest in how the cleverest of housecats are dishonest about the state of their hunger.

The world has taught me to never show all my cards. But this is getting exhausting. I might as well stake it all on the hand I have been dealt. I still have a few good years left in me before I dance to the tunes of the world. At least, I am willing to try.

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