There are chinks in time; junctures at which I don’t feel like being at the present at all. I am shoved to some corner of its continuum, which feels weird because a continuum doesn’t have corners, does it? Still, it is like that to me. I get strangled up by a memory as easy as it is to tie shoe laces. And the only evidence that I am still at the point Present is my body; a huge lump of molecule unable to pass through the semipermeable membrane of time.
My mind is able to wander about; freer than a bird that flies aloft skies the number of stars. It bustles along the continuum of time, acquainted with its windings and turns like it has been a resident of it for so long. Which it is. I would give anything just to smack it back into the present, but well, a semipermeable membrane is semipermeable after all.
I figured my mind if it had a career, it would be a writer. In my head, it is frolicking at a park in Paris or blinking against the heavy lights of New York or recording the song of Caribbean seawater to its shores—but most of all, it is writing all of this beauty down mounds of paper, weaving a story out of it. It tells me of tales I have never heard of, but I flush them all down like they’re nothing but crap.
As free as my mind is, it is a prisoner of the past: memories that it couldn’t let go of, which in the present are both bliss and sadness. It is a worshiper of the past, an evader of the present and a deserter of the future.
How anti-climactic can it be?
Today, it barely crossed my mind that I am purposely missing the last day of filing application for Creative Writing. Yes, I just deserted a future; the one I’ve always loved and at the same time always feared.
I admit, it is a little sad, considering the fact that I was already close. But that’s the point: close to what? Close to getting rejected? Close to heaps of paperwork? Close to the life that I think I want?
Crossly, the answer snaps right in front of me; it crackles like the jittery flame of a candle, almost sounding like it is snickering at my idiocy. The answer is that, I will never know.
And that’s the greatest truth I have ever learned.
- Kevin is a Chemistry professor in UP Manila, and er, that’s a very fine thing of my block mate to say. *grins stupendously
- Like to hear @kayeareunstar’s babbles? Hear, or rather, read them here. She’s one of the most fun people I’ve ever met and known.