But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Strange time, we’re living through. Everything we do, we do because we are told to do so. We wake up, live one more day of what everyone calls a life, we go to bed. Do we dream? Let’s not get there already. Let’s start with something simpler.
A child spends four or five years of his life in this world. Then one night he looks up at the sky and suddenly gets amazed by the overwhelming number of stars twinkling all over the sky. What does he do then? Maybe try to count the stars. One, Two, Three. And what do we say to them? Most of the times, something like this, “Hey kiddo, the stars aren’t going anywhere. Come here, let’s see what you’ve learned from school today.” Now, I’m no specialist. I can’t tell you at what age a child does what. I don’t know when a child starts to count or begin to speak. I’m just trying to make a point here. If you’ve ever caught yourself wondering the things I wonder, I think you’ll get my point at some degree. Most of our parents want us to do great in our schools, get the highest grade, hold the first position in class and the list goes on. Now, we can go to the why-they-do-so thing. But, I’m not going there. By now you may think that you’ve guessed what’s this about. I’m going to stop you right there. Because this isn’t about our parents pushing us too hard or about our spoiled childhood. In fact this isn’t really about anything particular. These are just random thoughts about random things. I don’t know what I’m about to write next or where it’ll end, if it really has any ending.
A few days ago I got myself a notebook, opened it and tried to write about the things going on inside my head. Sounds easy enough? Well, it wasn’t easy for me. I couldn’t get a single word out of my pen. If I don’t feel comfortable sharing something with people or somebody or anybody, there’s no way I’m gonna be comfortable writing it down, not even in a private journal. So, this is the best alternative I could find. I’m gonna post these stuffs online, on social medias and/or my blog. The difference between writing stuffs on a private journal and online? I don’t know actually. If I’m writing something on a private journal I feel like I’ve to be completely honest about things I’m writing. I know nobody’ll force me to be completely honest, but it’s just what I feel. Now, the thing about posting stuffs like these online is, nobody cares. I can just make something up and post it. It’s neither going to be a journal nor any story. Honestly, I don’t know what’s it going to be. For example, I didn’t get myself a notebook in the first place and tried to maintain a journal. But I wrote it anyway, that’s the beauty of it. That’s the beauty of it…
About earlier, can you imagine the wonder on the face of that child if you told him, “All the stars you’re seeing, none of them are actually there. You’re just seeing their light from the past.”
Hey, wait a minute. I think, I screwed up. A five years old kid probably wouldn’t even understand that statement, let alone be wondered. Told you, I’m no specialist. Regardless, as I said before, maybe you’ll get my point at some degree. But if you don’t, that’s perfectly alright too, it’s nothing important anyway.
Oct 25, 2015