Did you ever wish to be somebody or something else? Not to be the person you are now? Not the entity you inhabit at this very moment? Me? I did and I do…
How I wish I am still a child circling around the playground with friends—not minding if I have coins or nothing; not minding of the world’s cruelty; not minding of the school works that steals nights for sleep; not minding of tomorrow’s pandemonium; not minding vanity and material scarcity.
How I wish I am a machine programmed to do expert tasks—not minding if I truly have essence in this world; not minding of experiencing heartaches, and numb of human emotions and complex intellectual connotations.
How I wish I am a phoenix gaining fresh life from ashes-- not minding my bitter past, I can burn myself and live again, with a new being rebirth from death’s pain.
How I wish I am a sunset splashing the sky with spectrum of light—not minding if I signify “ending” nor deliver a gloomy horizon for I know I will send the human kind to rest and make them eager for another day’s quest.
How I wish I am a magical wand with a twist and turn I am capable of performing enchantments -- not minding if I am real or just an illusion; not minding if I am just a real wooden stick of false impression.
How I wish I am a book sharing my knowledge, ideas, stories and lessons—not minding if I am crumpled, tattered out or even ravaged externally for I know I am still preserved through words that never be forgotten, rationalizing that my worth still lounges inside—untouched and never rotten.
But those wishes are just wishes—of a fool who fancies impossibility. Of a man tired of living in the core of a real world that conceals the splendor of dreaming and believing in imagination. Indeed life is full of foes, ironic facts and uncertainties-- that a life requires acceptance of living in grievance and envy.
How would a man be a man? -- Only when he is ready to face the test of human existence, that is—to bleed, to weep, to hope, to dream, to fail, to die, to let go, to move on, to accept, to heal, to grow, to laugh, to hate, to believe, to fall, to stand, and to wish! To wish-- without losing the grasp of the world’s impurities… Life is not about escape gateways, not about circumvention of reality, not about cowardice. Life tolls for a man who is scared of reality but know how to face it in any case with may be a fearful eye but with a valiant heart…
-- Psych Hunter --
How I wish I am still a child circling around the playground with friends—not minding if I have coins or nothing; not minding of the world’s cruelty; not minding of the school works that steals nights for sleep; not minding of tomorrow’s pandemonium; not minding vanity and material scarcity.
How I wish I am a machine programmed to do expert tasks—not minding if I truly have essence in this world; not minding of experiencing heartaches, and numb of human emotions and complex intellectual connotations.
How I wish I am a phoenix gaining fresh life from ashes-- not minding my bitter past, I can burn myself and live again, with a new being rebirth from death’s pain.
How I wish I am a sunset splashing the sky with spectrum of light—not minding if I signify “ending” nor deliver a gloomy horizon for I know I will send the human kind to rest and make them eager for another day’s quest.
How I wish I am a magical wand with a twist and turn I am capable of performing enchantments -- not minding if I am real or just an illusion; not minding if I am just a real wooden stick of false impression.
How I wish I am a book sharing my knowledge, ideas, stories and lessons—not minding if I am crumpled, tattered out or even ravaged externally for I know I am still preserved through words that never be forgotten, rationalizing that my worth still lounges inside—untouched and never rotten.
But those wishes are just wishes—of a fool who fancies impossibility. Of a man tired of living in the core of a real world that conceals the splendor of dreaming and believing in imagination. Indeed life is full of foes, ironic facts and uncertainties-- that a life requires acceptance of living in grievance and envy.
How would a man be a man? -- Only when he is ready to face the test of human existence, that is—to bleed, to weep, to hope, to dream, to fail, to die, to let go, to move on, to accept, to heal, to grow, to laugh, to hate, to believe, to fall, to stand, and to wish! To wish-- without losing the grasp of the world’s impurities… Life is not about escape gateways, not about circumvention of reality, not about cowardice. Life tolls for a man who is scared of reality but know how to face it in any case with may be a fearful eye but with a valiant heart…
-- Psych Hunter --
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