I was a year older last Sunday. I woke up unable to even turn my head comfortably. I nursed a bad stiff neck that I couldn’t even arise from bed freely. In that situation I stared at the ceiling and pretended to think deeply.
Being zapped in a state of immobility, there were faces that came up and they made me smile. They were those people who put me through the jungle. In that reverie, I also happen to meet the faces of people whose chameleon-like character gels with their beings that somehow the shadow of their bodies resembles the colors of their skin (or was it truly the case?). On the other side, were my heroes whose mileage for acceptance can win me a trip thrice over the globe if converted to these programs. There were faces and memories.
I was reminded of events. There were deaths and births. There were parties and arguments (these are healthy for me!). There were partings and goings. There were moments of letting go and choices. Heartaches spiced it all up and the flag of independence put me through.
No comments:
Post a Comment