After a series of agitation and depression that came to me,I slowly recovered from the phase. It seems that what happened was part of life's long journey for me. I never did imagined that I would come to a point where I would really feel that low and situated into an abyss and vastness which I couldn't figure out. Before, every time this state would trigger, I would either dwell into what it pours in me to feel and act or do the opposite and just completely ignore it. But this particular one is monstrous, which ate me up from almost two months of an unanswered truth and reason behind why I was coursing through this path...and now, I have realized why.
There was this feeling that all the days which I needed to rest were neglected because I felt that there was no need to do this. And so, maybe all those resting days converged to one great plan of putting me into their lair and making me feel what rest should be. So I'm talking about resting and all, but wasn't sure of how or what to do in the resting state--I became agitated. I became impatient; incapable to sit still and enjoy the air passing through me in the long hours of staring far way from nothingness...I never thought of it until I snapped out and realized I was too ignorant of being still. Thus, I missed the loud cracking sound of art in my life. Then I remembered, that 'hey, this one 's also a form of art?
Sitting still for hours, watching restless soaps and TV programs and oversleeping were the checklist to fill-out during the state. And lucky enough for me to have guessed that these were the very same things I tend not to do when rest was needed; when stopping and allowing the day finish by itself is the next thing to be done. I concluded that it was life I was defying. When I was a bit younger, time was the greatest enemy and now, it is the very reason of existence. So, I breathe as hard as I could and then let myself be drowned by the immense and rotting payback of the life I redefined in the last 20 years of my life. It made me think what I was missing, what I neglected and what I treasured.
After the period of nesting in the effects of what I have done, I started to hear music again, appreciate color once more and open myself to hurt and love...I became human again. A person who breathes in pressure and speaks out truth. This same process was one thing I lost while I was in the cocoon of my nostalgic-melancholia depression. But this time, as I breathe, I dream. This dream comes with hope and patience. I breathe out and the new saga continues for me--hopefully to a better me. A new person who sees life and dreams of wonderful music emanating from beautiful memoirs of colors which I will make in the future aspects of both life and love.
