One of those unforgettable childhood soundtracks
They say that the craziest people in the world who have the craziest ideas are the ones who actually create change.
We don’t have to be literally crazy to make change. We just have to know what we stand for and speak up for it. And it must have been desensitizing to know of whatever it is as we continue the struggle to seek for the side of truth. The hasty adjective ‘crazy’ must have been what we will feel when everything around makes sense.
We might wander around, waiting for things to happen in life. And when they do, what is our action? It is a necessity to know the details. It should be our obligation to know and work your way around; cross your borders, get out of your comfort zone, explore the greater picture. Let not be followers of knowing little and end up slaves of ignorance but let truth be our mistress and be her slaves.
Action starts with knowing. You can not fight for something you don’t understand, or just happen to know unintentionally.
There is a lot to learn and a lot to make right. Think ahead, it’s not that bad to be crazy after all.
The round table separates us from touch. Two coffee hang waiting to be cooled. I never seek the real change in the two of us. It has always been the same mantra every damned afternoon we strike eyes. Always the same nostalgia of the past, the same jibber-jabber of kamusta and sige bye, the same expression on our faces, the same rapport to avoid the degradation of our past, the same maintenance of the supposedly-dying and should-have-died-a-long-time-ago relationship, the same illusion of the one-sided selfishness of my possession of your soul.
I seek your company. It was always the one which kept these pieces hanging loose but together. It was the one that makes my mind work again, at least before. Even if it was only your company and not you wholly, I appreciate it. I appreciate every last tinge of effort you seem compelled to.
I want to make change again. I want to make the world move, in the craziest ways possible. I want my abilities to be limitless, even in my own beliefs, even without actions, as long as I could trust myself again. I want the famous inevitable change!
But you interfere; why do you always fail to finish your coffee? It was almost half-empty then why did you leave? You could’ve at least drank it all up, even though I paid for it. I had said that I wanted to be capable again. But the ever-ending questions incarcerate me apathetic—do I look numb? Please teach me how to care again? Please don’t make me look like I’m drained of everything. I look as if my life was sucked out by an unknown entity. Was it? I think it was and I am an undead now, crawling the deepest possibilities and asking the same, never-ceasing questions that always start with ‘what if.’
I don’t like open endings. Why do you give the most hooking introductions? It seemed so long but t’was only the first part of you, only a clue of who you are, and in the context of what you are made of, you made me understand, you made me interested in one topic. I am still stuck there. Come on, finish your work—why leave me hanging without an ending?