Blast from the Past

Just a few days ago, my cousins came to visit me. When we were conversing with one another, I shuffled through my old journals and writing pieces. Some of them were written over a decade ago. When I looked through my past writings, I was filled with joy and deep sense of longing. The events that I went through so many years ago vanished, but the lessons were recorded. My writings are my legacy.

They are my constant companion reminding me of my journey through life. I read through a few of them and, lo and behold, many of them were terrible! Most of them described the physical activities I did in those particular days. I wrote about where I went, who I met, and how I felt. There were many grammar and spelling mistakes. Some of them were even written on napkins!

Nonetheless, I was awed by my writings. Just reading what I wrote felt like traveling through time. I could relive the struggles and growth of those past moments in the present. Each and every one of them told a different story. It made me realize how vibrant, wonderful, and majestic my life has always been.

It does me no good keeping those writings to myself. I learned that the best way to honor them was to share them. I read them to my cousins. Some journal entries made them cringe like the great, awkward teenage years. Others made them mindful, because I was sharing a deep part of myself.

Now I want to share one with you. The writing is from a decade ago when I was a sophomore in high school. May you learn something from it, or at the very least, get a laugh from it. 😀

The One Maze

            An unusual sense of feeling approaches me as I stare aimlessly into the blue sky covered with puffy cumulonimbus clouds. The beautiful sky I wonder, I wonder if it ever ends. That constant blue, that limitless quantity of fullness, I marvel at its simplicity. The simplicity of life that I never really took time to notice, the appreciation that I always took for granted. Maybe I never really understand or maybe I just don’t want to understand, but it is a part of life. Like a person lost in a maze with many complicated paths, I can never find the satisfaction to justify my deep unconsciousness. Is it the thought of life that hinders me from achieving such goals in life? I guess so, but then again it is all part of being a human being.

I found myself lost in life numerous times lately especially these few years. Have I grown so old that my mind surpasses my normal thinking in a very complicated way? Gosh, I felt so stuck up to this feeling. Not long ago as I read a play by Tennessee Williams called Our Town, my mind jumped into action. If I ever got a chance to go back in time to relive the moments of life, would I end up being miserable because I have never actually appreciated the simple things in life? The warm baths, the oxygen that I breathe in every second, the relaxing feeling when I drink water after a hard workout, is it that hard to take notice of how special these simple everyday things are to me? I believe so. Not that I do not care for them, it is just that my mind has already sought for something else more important, love and a wider range of understanding. Being born without ever facing many hardships in life or having been granted all the simple things made me unable to be thankful for them. How can I describe it? I guess in one simple word: unknown.

To appreciate is to know from my point of understanding. How can a person learn to love everything if they have it all the time? Somehow they must follow a path in life that will lead them to the answers that will open up a doorway to their constant misunderstandings. Though I really want to learn how to recognize this feeling of appreciation, I know that at times I do not really care at all. Being sad, being selfish, being ungrateful, being stubborn, and being whatever we want to be are all parts of life. I can be sad and not understand life, but I know that it is an essential part in being a human. Feelings…it is all about feelings, and that is enough to describe my continually aching mind. If I were to become indifferent about life after death because I never value the simple things in life, then I should really go to hell. I rather be emotional and stubborn simply for the reason that I am a human being. I want to cry for what I care, grieve for what I care, and troubled for what I lost. If dying means losing the feelings that are necessary for being a human being, then I have died a long time ago. Or maybe I have never ceased to exist in this world, in this life.

Enrage with thoughts, I remember the varieties that always strike me as I ponder over the fact that life comes in many different colors. The colors resemble each part of life that all have its own uniqueness and amazing qualities. I guess that is the purpose behind all simplicity in life, to look beyond and find the phenomenal traits within. Once I witness an inspiring scene that triggers my natural awareness. On an average day at lunch, I sat outside near a lively tree to view the nature and its beauty. Unexpectedly, a small green caterpillar landed swiftly on my book bag and I took it up with a grass that I have torn from the ground. I put it on a small leaf on the tree as the wind blew causing the leaf to rattle back and forth. The caterpillar, however, tries to web the leaf with its sticky solution coming out of its mouth. It was trying to turn into a cocoon on that unsafe leaf and I gaze at the way it slowly progresses even though the wind blew and blew. If such simple creatures in life are so determined to achieve what he is after, then why in the world am I doing nothing about my own desires? If simplicity is just to follow what I want to do, then why do I lack so much determination to do so? It must be, it must be that I never consider anything I do as trying.

Simplicity, OK. So let me see what makes something simple…I know! How about enjoying what I do everyday such as homework (which I doubt that I will) and typing this paper. Hmm…Right now I am trying to think if anyone else will one day read this paper and say this person is surely gay or even stupid. Well let me tell you a little about me. I am an Asian dude (Chinese of course) who is obsessed with Luigi. I am often weird if you consider me so because I always try to find a thrill in life. What I mean by thrill is my purpose in life. I live by a rule: if every few seconds a person dies, then why not live my life as if every few seconds I might die? So I might have to adjust my behaviors a little like saying goodbye to stubbornness or adieu to misery. Man is my life too short to spend time with those meaningless so-called feelings. If everything I do will end up being meaningless because I will end up dying anyway, then what are my purposes in life? My efforts would be wasted and I would be wasted, so why would I bother trying? I guess it is because of one simple reason and that is because I can. I have a brain and why not use it to my full potential. I have legs, so why not run with them. Exactly, besides if everything still means nothing, then at least I know that I have tried.

A few days ago I came back to my lively tree and found the same cocoon of the caterpillar. This time I was shocked and believe me it was no sight like any others. I saw the cocoon with a small crack in the head of it. At first I thought the cocoon had fallen prey to nature, but on my second look I realize something. It was no normal crack; rather it looks more like the caterpillar has evolved into a spectacular being. Amazed and appalled that it has grown up and flew away, I carefully sat down on the grass and adjust my eyes toward the sky. Life as I knew always go forth and the caterpillar has go forth itself to live its life. I thought to myself, if life was meant for me to live, then one day, maybe, I will live my life. Eager about the sudden display of life, I know that the matters of understanding do not apply to me anymore. If I was meant to live a life full of confusion and chaos, then let it be. The one maze in my life bothers me not, and I know that it is all I need to know. My life will begin again and again, but mostly it will not stop until the day that I die. So I should say, “Let’s live life until my dying days…”