It is the continuation

It was in the morning, cold misty morning where solid clog of haze blurring my sight. The temperature was so damn low that it shivered my every muscle to the bone – the coldness owed me a wonderful stretch of blanket to cover my complete torso. I woke up climbing down the stairs with hand fully gripped to the banisters just to feel every puff of breath I inhaled, hardened and coarse – just like the frost poking up your nostrils on the hard winter morning.

Still months to come after just a few days I was here to soil this fertile land with my preserved knowledge and for me, my unknowing deserved to be garnished with another part of the world I haven't seen before. It was woods and jungles and more leaves and more woods and branches of the species I haven't known peacefully grow in the vicinity of my own brand new polished home. It was like reminiscing the day you first arrived in Sussex not to know every single thing in front of your eyes. You tried to focus and tried to recall everything you've seen in the book you bought in Kinokuniya but in a way you were excited to scream that you knew this and you've seen that but alas it wouldn't scream out of your mouth. It was well preserved.

But the days in Sussex were completely different from the days everything did shamble here in this God-knows-what-creature-would-come-out-from-my-backyard place. It feels like the interference of two different worlds and forcefully asked to mix up together by some sort of weird chemical and physical and biological reactions so that a brand new culture could be cultivated and people could adapt to their own preferences.

I haven't tried any of that mixture because I wouldn't dare to change the way I already lived, the way I've been brought up, the way the Sussex boys saw the life from their own perspective.

I saw Canberra and I saw Ben on a single wheel of his bicycle. Ben did that twisting with his handle on the formation I never knew while I saw myself holding my muffler trying to get it rounded back on my neck. And suddenly I couldn't see myself and Ben and other people lying on that park on that lovely fall evening. I couldn't see the view I was profound to saunter the next evening. They disappeared. The world kept on shaking I couldn't hold my feet to the ground.

Everything flashed back to where it did belong to. I rode the bus this morning just to be gaped in awe about the amazement I saw within a few reach of my hands. The mountains, the hills, the small rivers, the dew that scattered all over the window. It was awesome to be knocked on the head that you were alive and still breathing to see this dew dripping from the tip of the weird species leaf of a tree and you love it and you became someone you didn't know because from the first day you were born to the hour your age had befallen on 20, you never knew that this kind of place ever exist. You just didn't know.

And you started to become someone even weirder that you can't recognize that it were you. Suddenly the sudden comprehension struck your head like an atomic bomb you knew will explode then you tried to run and to evade every single possibility that you had known will result in your own casualty. It was freaking mad. All of a sudden you started to cry and began patting your own head just to be regretting your own past sorrows.

And in the end, you think you will have the benefit of the doubt, and you started to screw everything up and you couldn't bear the fact that everything did shamble everything again when your hopes started to bloom.

And it was just the time that you hit the voracious fire and relentlessly hoping that you were back in Canberra watching Ben and his bicycle and you wished you were transported back to Sussex just to see yourself in your schooling uniform.

My life could be trembling. But I am pretty sure that you will feel what did I feel just now.


Popular posts from this blog

Artificial Hope

First and Last

Apartment 11B