Chasing Moments

At times, the story of life never sounds magical as the idea of fairy tale. Sometimes it appears as though something is not always right and things often turn horribly wrong. As though somewhere in this world a disaster always ready to lurk, scoffing our zest in life, halting our hope to move forward.
Is it just me? Or circumstances are just so awfully hostile. But I always felt I am being deprived to savor the moment of thrill. It always turned the other way around before it could go ahead.
Privately, a nagging truth of what’s coming ahead often drifts in my head like a broken arrow, giving me some prickly sensation somewhere beneath my chest. It’s a passing thought, but towards the end of the day, it thrives in my mind.
Maybe I need some special moment to discern completely the intricate context of human existence. Things are never going to be easy but as days progress, it will get better. Things will get better. It won’t take far worse than having a tooth ache anyway.

Perhaps, I’ll start exploring the idea of taking a risky adventure just to see how far I would go with my inner strength. But it sounds ridiculous. Utterly silly to start messing up. So I’ll take it from here. Rediscover my worth, peep at the cracks where sunlight filters, look on the brighter side of life and discard the notion of desertion. If things are meant to befall then it will happen. It doesn't need to be coerced. It will just flow naturally.

Waiting for that precious moment to strike becomes an eternal quest then. A blurry stake. A tattered hope. As though I am gawking at the opaque horizon, searching for some bright stars to flicker when it was actually drizzly above.

So what I've been missing? Pointless musing perhaps. Or sordid reveries. It could be that I am just overthinking everything. Putting some vibrant hues, seeing rainbows when things were not actually there.

Scared. I am always scared to be rejected. Scared to be abandoned. Scared to be pushed aside. Scared to fight back. Scared to navigate unchartered territories. Scared to speak up. Scared to explore. Scared to be in the crowd because I lack self-confidence.

I often saw imperfections in me because I always thought people look at me that way. It seems I am wearing a mask all the time for worries of lifting the veil that shrouds the broken pieces inside of me. So I deliberately refused to open up my door to others I am not comfortable with. I only limit myself to someone who shares my passion in life, whom I could completely talk without being judged, whom I could completely express my views, even my weirdest thoughts, without being misunderstood.
I am a certified introvert. I don’t easily jell with others. Though, over the years, I developed an interpersonal skill that allows me to deal with people from different walks of life smoothly, I am still tentative with my approach in mixing with the crowd, with the people I don’t share any common interest. I'd rather spend time alone in the corner than endure the agonizing moment of pretending to be happy with the group, when deep inside it feels like hell.

I grew up in a very different childhood atmosphere. I was raised in a secluded place with nothing in the environment but sea, long coastlines, rivers, mountains and ravines. I would spend my day alone in the house, pressing my nose on books, or at the seaside marveling at the horizon where I often wondered what’s on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

I was taught to be cautious. So I grew up keeping myself away from everyone I find unconventional. Talking to boys was considered a taboo. So I developed a very antagonistic approach towards men. Back then, I considered them as bloody vultures that should be avoided. Until that mindset revolved into a personal culture, wrapping my little, shaky world.

I also grew up believing that life revolves in two patterns: right and wrong, black and white. However, when I became of age, I learned that things sometime fall into black and sometime fall into white, that most wrongs are not rights and most rights are not wrongs. They are simply different and unique, strange and extraordinary, terrific and tough. It’s up to people how to gasp the difference. Still, my horse mentality prevails.

Maybe I need someone to constantly remind me that life is so incredibly wonderful. That it’s not all about wars and chaos and rejection and pain that haunt this planet. There are wonders and the feeling of being loved and appreciated that make this world a better place to live in.

One of the most magnificent things in life is really to meet people whom we could go so naturally that having them around already feels like home. Whom we could interact without forcing ourselves to be appreciated. Without forcing ourselves to be cherished. Someone who could completely understand the core of our being. Someone who could make us laugh during bad days. Someone who could make us feel incredibly cool and protected.

That moment.
That special moment.
I am still chasing it. I am still hanging on.
But will it still comes?Will it ever happens? I wonder.

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