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rhythm
Sunday, August 23, 2009 - 9:19 PM

the world is spinning too fast on a sunday. it is ignorant of the heaviness of my steps treading on the damp floor. maybe I'm moving on to slowly as it seems as if everything is zooming past me in fast forward. surprisingly, the little green man knew my frustration and welcomed me every time i approached every crossing. with only one song playing on repeat, the gentle raindrops pat my head reassuring me to follow my own rhythm as i walked on.

don't bother asking whether I'm okie because to you I'll always be. just like tmr and the day after tmr, life goes on - unwaiting. just as confused as you, i wondered which side of me am i portraying today. comforting words are not what i'm waiting for, but i wonder whether it is answers i'm seeking.

desperation filled the air as the new week approaches: lovers fighting with time for their last embrace on the sidewalks, parents saying their goodbyes to their children who have shifted away, the can collectors trampling on the whatever that is left of their cans wondering whether tmr they'll get a good price, apprentice bankers wearing the exact same white striped shirts discussing whether tmr's market will be as exciting, players reflecting on their under performance for the day's match, students trying to force all the information that they possibly can for tmr's prelim paper. i was reading this while all these happened:

"in life, each person can take one of two attitudes: to build or to plant. the builders might take years over their tasks, but one day, they finish what they're doing. Then they find they're hemmed in their own walls. life loses its meaning when the building stops.

then there are those who plant. they endure storms and all the many vicissitudes of the seasons, and they rarely rest. but, unlike a building, a garden never stops growing. And while it requires the gardener's constant attention, it also allows life for the gardener to be a great adventure. ~ Paolo Coelho, Brida, Prologue"

as for now, I have walked myself tired and thinkin shall cease here. remembering the greek word "thelema", tmr will adopt another rhythm.