Emerging from the deep

I long for the breath of fresh air when the sun's up and everything is alive.

Oxygen can only last for so long when submerged in water.

Hands that have worked tirelessly are still bound to wrinkle.

I was not built with fins, nor was I meant to hold Poseidon's trident.

Time causes you to swim further away. Where there used to be a diver's paradise, there is now an abyss.

This is what it's like to sink deeper. Treading in murky waters. Losing sight of the light. Losing sight of the purpose.

Herein lies nothing but vulnerability. Fear of the unknown and the discomfort of the prevalent nothingness.

Why go any further?

I do not long to get my hands on the dead pirate's chest. I could die trying to get a hold of it, or even worst, die for having it.

Ambition consumes people. Greed eats them alive.

When being underwater ceases to open your eyes to the amazing world beneath, it is finally time to trade the fins for feet.

Breathe easy. Get your feet back on solid ground.
 
Life on the surface is always better than discovering the scum on the bottom of the ocean.

Reading rainbow

In those pages the words flew.

It went along with me on my escape to the brown river and accompanied me on the way back. There it stayed in the depth of my open heart where it found a new home.

It sharpened ideals and erased ordinary. It is good, but dangerous. Placed in the wrong hands, it could be poison. What was meant to set you free can make you choke. What was meant to comfort you can hurt.

Words have the power but only when it is triggered by belief. It could either make or break. It could encourage or disillusion.

As you grow older, doubting becomes a shield and belief becomes a vulnerability.

What choice do I have? I came to realize for awhile now that when you've chewed on the words for so long there is very little room for even a shadow of doubt.

There lies the danger.

I envy the young for they are fresh and spirited souls willing to believe and understand. They understand only the benefits, but never the perils.

For that, they hold the power- the kind which the lost and jaded soul should seek to attain again.

Defining Possibility

I gave a kiss that means goodbye.

No... we both agreed, the kiss meant "see you later" ."Later" is undefined. Undefined by a clock, calendar or calculator. Call it complicated math or just stupid idealism, but though the promise may be zero, the hope can go on to infinity. Hope is full, promises are empty. And in the Ninoy Aquino International airport, just as it was in Charles De Gaulle, he offered possibility, but not certainty.

So the idealist sent off the realist accepting possibility. It was a compromise- a meeting in the middle. He is part friend and part lover, just as he is part European and part Asian. He can never be fully just one or the other. He is both.

Compromise took care of possibility. In between airports, emails, and skype calls, possibility is nurtured. The idealist becomes stronger, more clear, and more open, but the realist is enigmatic.

Ironic as it may sound, the realist remains ambiguous. Ambiguity, he claims, could protect us both.

I agree.

It could protect from pain, but ultimately prevent from feeling.

And so my protected, unfeeling heart remains vulnerable as it stays in the terminal where I test the confines of "later". Where I should wait and when it would end is uncertain, but somehow defining the kiss...defining this... could be possible. 　


-PLS