Scrambled Thoughts
I look around our house on a Tuesday night. Skipped work.
'Sometimes I feel my imagination and reality overlaps too much that I am having difficulty what to believe anymore.'
"Is the world different? Or is it me who's different?" I silently asked myself.
After a few moments of reflection: "No, it's the world that is different, perhaps too different to comprehend."
I sip my coffee. Currently, I mix coffee with soymilk. It provides me with my needed caffeine boost as well as my protein consumption.
I place the mug on the wooden table.
There seems to be no purpose of this post. But I start typing nevertheless.
Slowly and quietly the lateness of the night is being coated with the break of dawn. Crickets and lizards stopped making noises only they can understand.
A tricycle hovers outside looking for passengers.
"Tough luck," I smirked.
I really hate being unproductive. The semestral break did just that.
Now my thoughts linger profusely. Continuously.
I hate it.
I'd like to try parkour. It seems exhilarating and exciting. Dangerous but it could be worth a try.
Every now and then I wish my thought organization would mature. It seems to regress every now and then. I could be systematic the other minute and explosive on the next.
Like I said, I hate being unproductive.
Finally, I sip my last concoction and breathed deeply.
The world may be different, but I am too. I realized.
'Sometimes I feel my imagination and reality overlaps too much that I am having difficulty what to believe anymore.'
"Is the world different? Or is it me who's different?" I silently asked myself.
After a few moments of reflection: "No, it's the world that is different, perhaps too different to comprehend."
I sip my coffee. Currently, I mix coffee with soymilk. It provides me with my needed caffeine boost as well as my protein consumption.
I place the mug on the wooden table.
There seems to be no purpose of this post. But I start typing nevertheless.
Slowly and quietly the lateness of the night is being coated with the break of dawn. Crickets and lizards stopped making noises only they can understand.
A tricycle hovers outside looking for passengers.
"Tough luck," I smirked.
I really hate being unproductive. The semestral break did just that.
Now my thoughts linger profusely. Continuously.
I hate it.
I'd like to try parkour. It seems exhilarating and exciting. Dangerous but it could be worth a try.
Every now and then I wish my thought organization would mature. It seems to regress every now and then. I could be systematic the other minute and explosive on the next.
Like I said, I hate being unproductive.
Finally, I sip my last concoction and breathed deeply.
The world may be different, but I am too. I realized.
Remembered a quote from "Manuscript found in Accra"
ReplyDelete“For those who are not frightened by the solitude, everything will have a different taste.
In solitude, they will learn that saying ‘No’ does not always show a lack of generosity and that saying ‘Yes’ is not always a virtue.
And those who are alone at this moment, need never be frightened by the words of the devil: ‘You’re wasting your time.’
Or by the chief demon’s even more potent words: ‘No one cares about you.’
The Divine Energy is listening to us when we speak to other people, but also when we are still and silent and able to accept solitude as a blessing.
And when we achieve that harmony, we receive more than we asked for.”
-Don't hate being unproductive and doing nothing. it's our soul's way of communicating to us and to the universe
Naks. I like that! But usually when I'm alone and got nothing to do, I sleep :3
ReplyDelete