I have never fallen in love before more than I did today…
I have thousands of dreams. Most of them are shallow and materialistic. But the grandest and the truest dream I have for my soul is yet to be a finished picture.
It is made up of clips of memories, sights of inspiration, a piece of this, and a of piece of that. It’s a clutter. It is not an abstract. Its a painting of an adult that does not know art. It’s a clash of whatever I found good to my eyes. It’s a mess. You would hardly even call it a draft.
I never really knew what have made me to be this undefined being that I am. I feel like I do not know myself. Ask me my favorite color, and I’ll answer you, purple.
Or green.. or black.
Ask me where I live, I’d answer you three different places. But before I would, I’d have to pause for a moment which normally lasts five to ten seconds of thinking. In that short period was a quick reminisce of my pass bringing back all the emotions it has – of course not in a detailed fast forwarded kind of way. It’s more like when your sleeping and then you suddenly felt like you’ve fallen three stories high. Boom! And then you wake up. At least it’s close to that.
In my nearly 22 years of life, I have lived in eight different places. Not one of them felt to be that place where you’d feel safe, free, and be yourself. That, I guess, is also one of the reasons why I create blogs. Why I created this blog. Being in my blog felt like being with a friend, like what I would picture a home.
I’ve been jumping from one place to another. Never settling down. Not because I can’t but because they never felt homey to me. I’d wake up, eat, do chores and all those things required for living. But that is that. A repetition. A boring routine. In some lucky times it would be spiced up by moments of joy, and pains of misery. And then you get over it. And then its a thing of the pass. It happened. Just that. A plethora of beige, white, and black.
It was shallow, momentary, and almost unimportant. Looking back, I don’t feel prided by that.
So I figured, it will be my greatest challenge – my greatest dream…
TO FIND THAT HOME. That home that needs description beyond my comprehension. That home that would feel like home. Bursting of different colors blended to perfection. Energetic and full of life.
About an hour ago, I was roaming around cyberworld. Clicking from one blog to another. Reading stories, being touched. Until I saw it. That blog. I was awestruck. ‘Going Home‘, the title read. And I knew right then, its gonna be a good one.
I went through it, and then to another post and then to another. I can’t believe what I am seeing. I cannot believe the words I am reading. The photos and the words was like an old married couple crossing the street. Argh. I hate myself for I cannot justify the feelings I have right now. If this blog was a person, I have married him right then and there. It is my dream. And it was real.
My quest to find my purpose is still a blur. It is incomparable. It is dangerous. It will be defined by every decision I’d make. It will be dependent to my strength, bravery, and my will to pursue. Vulnerable to my weakness, gullible to ridicules.
I only hope that someday this draft of my dream would also eventually come to picture. A picture that I hope would be made real: experienced by all my senses. Enthralled by each of the colors – beige, white or black. For every color is a moment. And every moment is a memory.
And someday it would be hang in a gallery, ready to inspire more dreams to be made true.