I don't know how many people have been reading my blog (shouldn't be more than ten, I believe) and how much you've seen, but there are things I realise I cannot be so forthcoming. First of all, it wouldn't be fair to myself and my blog. Secondly, Some things can only be understood by certain individuals.
Which is why I shall hit some high notes at a new, private blog. Access will obviously be limited to some, of course...Those who can tolerate the noise that either me or Voice in Head can generate. The alternative, would be to scroll all the way down and type in 'I understand' without looking through the huge chunks of text. Sounds very novel, no? People often feel obligated to read stuff all the way and spend too much time wondering what the heck is this guy jabbering on about. This is the cost-saving method. Hope you like it.
On a lighter note, I went for a night stroll to evict the fragments of dark thoughts still squatting around inside my mind without a permit. The rain was light though umbrellas could still be seen in their full glory on the streets. Coming in various shapes and sizes, it told me exactly what most people thought of it.
To me, it was perfect.
Dinner was an easy affair with cha soba (Gotta love the feeling and sound when slurping them up), then I went for a walk in the rain, without an umbrella.
So glad I didn't wear a jacket or windbreaker. The wind felt wonderful together with the rain. It was an inexplicable feeling when the pitter-patter of tears from the sky fell upon me, my worries just seem to melt away. The squatters fled into the darkness of the night as though the army of Heaven had been set upon them.
Then there were the lights.
No, I'm not talking about a near-death experience. For the first time, when I threw everything aside and took the time to savor the sights in a seemingly mundane atmosphere, I saw the beautiful little things, dancing about merrily like the seas of stars we could have seen if not - ironically - for the city lights.
Strangely, having a pair of glasses with an unspeakable number of scratches on the lenses gave me a different insight: Instead of seeing the structures from which the light originated, all I saw were blobs of colors, swirling about like an abstract picture painted by either the craziest contemporary painter or one of the most brilliant:
And all the while I had been taking my time to walk around a large empty lot. No doubt people would think me nuts one way or another. If only the rain was bigger...
There was nothing romantic about the feeling I had, sadly, but it was worth it. Just by getting out of my routine and doing what I felt like doing cleared my mind so much. Praise to the King for rain. =) It might seem impractical, but sometimes slowing down can do so much to increase your potential to accelerate in some aspects of life. As the quote goes, "Haste makes waste." Why not take a nice little break out of your routine for magical moments like these?
And here I shall end with another tale spun from my web of imagination.
* * *
There was once a very wealthy man who lived in the city. So wealthy was he that his mansion stood out even amongst the elite of the society. So wise was he in managing his finances that even the King would ask him for advice time and again.
The man had five sons. The first four had grown into handsome young men, their features finely chiseled, their physiques built so well it was as though God had crafted them personally, and their eyes so dazzling that one glance could take a maiden's breath and her heart away instantly. They were blessed with an immense amount of talent, each well-versed in various fields. The first had great knowledge of war and combat and was set to be groomed as the next Commander-in-chief of the King's army; The second was extraordinarily gifted with a sense for art and music, be able to make the most mundane-looking thing look like a divine creation and literally singing birds and people to him.
The third had the gift of the gab. So charismatic and empowering was he that even the most apathetic man would be mesmerized when he spoke. The fourth was imbued with an extremely rare talent for magic, being able to learn the most complex incantations and spells in the shortest time possible and even surpassing the most experienced magicians in the kingdom.
And what of the fifth son? He was an oddity, to say the least. He had talents of his own, but none surpassed that of his brothers'. He knew a little of this and that, learned some here and there but ultimately, he was like a crow in the midst of peacocks, a rock amongst the most breath-takingly beautiful gems.
Needless to say, he felt hopelessly inept and useless. The issue was compounded even more due to the fact that all the brothers had picked up the philantropic attitude from their father. They always helped out whenever they could, sparing little thought for their own comfort.
One day, war came to the kingdom. The enemy was a fierce and vicious tribe of warriors who had already swallowed several countries, leaving death and destruction in its hellish wake. The city went into a state of emergency and the people began to prepare for it. The first son went to the front lines to help prepare the defense. The second stayed and sang epics of courage to boost the soldiers' morale. The third helped out with the recruitment of soldiers and gave motivational speeches to allay the fears of the people. The fourth went to a safe area to prepare with the other magicians, hoping to turn the tide in their favour with the manipulation of the powers of nature. The fifth son stayed behind as well, helping with the manual labour.
However, one day, as he began piling up sacks to create barricades for his house, he had enough. Flopping down onto a chair, he exclaimed loudly. "I had enough!"
His father stopped work immediately, sat down beside him and asked him in a calm voice. "What is it, my son?"
"I've had enough, Father! Why can't I go out and help the others like my brothers did? Was it because I had nothing to offer?"
His father placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Son, no one has nothing to offer. It is just everyone has different abilities and talents."
"But look at them! They are so talented and are already able to help due to their experience. All I can do is place sacks at our doorstep and wait for the enemy to come in, hacking us to death! I feel so useless!" Unable to take it anymore, the fifth son started sobbing.
The man watched as his son wept bitterly. As his cries subsided, he asked him simply. "Have you calmed down, my son?"
Sniffing, his son nodded.
"Well then, let me tell you this. In my eyes, you are the equal of your brothers. Others look at their talents, I look at your potential; Others see their beauty, I see your heart; Others see a rock, but I see a jewel in the rough. My son, you have the greatest potential that has yet to be undiscovered and you have to remain not because you are not needed, but because you have a reason to be here."
"Really?" His son raised his tear-streaked face to see his father smiling.
"Yes, my son. Your emotions are yours and I cannot guarantee that you will not feel inadequate again, but believe in your father and your brothers who trusts and believes in you to defend our house."
The fifth son nodded and with renewed purpose, began building up the barricades again.
After the war had been won, the fifth son went on to become the greatest architect the kingdom had ever known, designing the most sturdy walls civilization had ever seen.
There was once a very wealthy man who lived in the city. So wealthy was he that his mansion stood out even amongst the elite of the society. So wise was he in managing his finances that even the King would ask him for advice time and again.
The man had five sons. The first four had grown into handsome young men, their features finely chiseled, their physiques built so well it was as though God had crafted them personally, and their eyes so dazzling that one glance could take a maiden's breath and her heart away instantly. They were blessed with an immense amount of talent, each well-versed in various fields. The first had great knowledge of war and combat and was set to be groomed as the next Commander-in-chief of the King's army; The second was extraordinarily gifted with a sense for art and music, be able to make the most mundane-looking thing look like a divine creation and literally singing birds and people to him.
The third had the gift of the gab. So charismatic and empowering was he that even the most apathetic man would be mesmerized when he spoke. The fourth was imbued with an extremely rare talent for magic, being able to learn the most complex incantations and spells in the shortest time possible and even surpassing the most experienced magicians in the kingdom.
And what of the fifth son? He was an oddity, to say the least. He had talents of his own, but none surpassed that of his brothers'. He knew a little of this and that, learned some here and there but ultimately, he was like a crow in the midst of peacocks, a rock amongst the most breath-takingly beautiful gems.
Needless to say, he felt hopelessly inept and useless. The issue was compounded even more due to the fact that all the brothers had picked up the philantropic attitude from their father. They always helped out whenever they could, sparing little thought for their own comfort.
One day, war came to the kingdom. The enemy was a fierce and vicious tribe of warriors who had already swallowed several countries, leaving death and destruction in its hellish wake. The city went into a state of emergency and the people began to prepare for it. The first son went to the front lines to help prepare the defense. The second stayed and sang epics of courage to boost the soldiers' morale. The third helped out with the recruitment of soldiers and gave motivational speeches to allay the fears of the people. The fourth went to a safe area to prepare with the other magicians, hoping to turn the tide in their favour with the manipulation of the powers of nature. The fifth son stayed behind as well, helping with the manual labour.
However, one day, as he began piling up sacks to create barricades for his house, he had enough. Flopping down onto a chair, he exclaimed loudly. "I had enough!"
His father stopped work immediately, sat down beside him and asked him in a calm voice. "What is it, my son?"
"I've had enough, Father! Why can't I go out and help the others like my brothers did? Was it because I had nothing to offer?"
His father placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Son, no one has nothing to offer. It is just everyone has different abilities and talents."
"But look at them! They are so talented and are already able to help due to their experience. All I can do is place sacks at our doorstep and wait for the enemy to come in, hacking us to death! I feel so useless!" Unable to take it anymore, the fifth son started sobbing.
The man watched as his son wept bitterly. As his cries subsided, he asked him simply. "Have you calmed down, my son?"
Sniffing, his son nodded.
"Well then, let me tell you this. In my eyes, you are the equal of your brothers. Others look at their talents, I look at your potential; Others see their beauty, I see your heart; Others see a rock, but I see a jewel in the rough. My son, you have the greatest potential that has yet to be undiscovered and you have to remain not because you are not needed, but because you have a reason to be here."
"Really?" His son raised his tear-streaked face to see his father smiling.
"Yes, my son. Your emotions are yours and I cannot guarantee that you will not feel inadequate again, but believe in your father and your brothers who trusts and believes in you to defend our house."
The fifth son nodded and with renewed purpose, began building up the barricades again.
After the war had been won, the fifth son went on to become the greatest architect the kingdom had ever known, designing the most sturdy walls civilization had ever seen.
* * *
This might sound a little Aesopian, but I do hope whoever reads this can learn something that will help you in whatever way possible.
There you go. Tip-tap Second Step.
There you go. Tip-tap Second Step.
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