If you're wondering where I've gone, well. I think I experienced a slight writer's block. (Haha) Sat in front of my desktop many a times- a cup of scorching coffee waiting in the wing, my wordpad cursor staring blankly at me...and then nothing. I am afloat. Like I have been countless times before. And I need to get my feet back on the ground again - where everything's real, where I can feel the damp soil breathing under my bare feet, the grass rustling with my every movement... On second thought, you know what I am seeing in my baffled head? Absurd - but I see a hill, a vast field maybe, a tree basking it's majesty to the skies - and me. Playing under the warm sun, my arms dancing in with the playful winds - barefoot and all happy.
When I said I wanted to get my feet back on the ground again, I honestly intended to insert a spot of poignancy into it. I'm not really sure what happened, though. Because as I wrote down the words, suddenly flashes of the beautiful sun, the warm soil underneath me, the winds that never fail to make me feel oh so light came waving in like freshly squeezed mandarins being poured into a once-empty glass. And then I was surging with all-happy emotions. For a fleeting instance I remembered all these wonderful things I've been missing -- while I was afloat -- and I realized, maybe getting back on the ground isn't a bad idea at all. And that it was never a bad thing, ever. Because despite of rain, and the possibility of endless storms, well -- I guess I've simply forgotten about dancing in the rain, and the warmth that comes in the summer.
Because despite the pain, or the possibility of falling down, It's just so much easier to get up when you're so near the ground, rather than afloat -- where the fall enough is already too much to bear, the thick wind suffocating you and all. Here is better - where everything is real. Where I can write my pain on the sand, and the wind can take it away for me. And if it doesn't work, well - I can always look up, close my eyes, and say a little prayer.
Up there, you can see nothing. You feel so light -- like everything is so surreal -- only because they are. None of it is real. Everything's just a world you've created in your head, because you're too afraid of opening your eyes, and seeing beyond what you want to see. You feel so light, when the truth is, you can't feel anything. You're barren. Like the winds you're nothing but a whiff of air. The world has passed you by, and you're not even aware of it.
So I think I prefer warmth. The warmth of the king sun, and the abundant soil underneath the imperfect grass. I prefer here - where everything is real. I prefer here. Because even if reality means I can never be with you, Still, here is right where you are.
Maybe I am an eternal optimist, after all. (According to Kokology)