Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Dear Owls, legal.

Dear Owls, 

This year, I turned into an adult. Not just by age, but by wisdom (or so I want to believe). I learnt lessons, tried new things, reminisced over old memories, found good people, lost loved ones, and I needed to find a way to move on with life. This year, I truly marked a stepping stone. In the midst of confusion and doubt, I was slowly turning into the person I am now- and I like the person I am now. A person who, despite all troubles, would still smile through the pain. A person that has found genuine happiness and satisfaction in the stupidity she has once done and learnt to embrace every aspect of herself- for once in her life.

On some days, I wonder why God brings people into our lives, only to snatch them away, but I remember that with each person he snatches away, a lesson is embarked on our souls. And our souls need to be upgraded. Our souls cannot handle routine. I have met great people and done remarkable things. I’ve lost and loved and loathed and left and landed on all the places I needed to land on.

I, for once in my life, have started to see the world through the eyes of Roman Gods who once mocked the mortals. I relate to the poetry I once wrote, and take advice from the people I once blocked out due to stubbornness. I have started to watch people break people’s promises, lie to get what they want, gossip about insecure girls, and take all the time in the world simply to bring each other down. You can’t see it if you’re standing next to them. But you can if you go far up. You can when/if you visit the moon, it’s so much easier to see the world for what it truly is, for what it was truly made for.

This year, owls, I sat on the moon for the very first time.

I sat on the moon and realized, I can never truly run away from humanity. No matter how far I go, something will always bring me back- be it a memory, a sibling, a mom, a responsibility. I sat on the moon and felt like it were merely a beach, overlooking a typhoon of busy fish swimming in a small world that promises us death the day we are born- and yet we attach ourselves to the silliest things. The moon, unlike anything I have ever seen, taught me how to live life. It taught me that lessons were meant to be a breaking point to another chapter. It taught me that chapters were meant to complete my story. You become a different person when you visit the moon.

The moon: being a very bad metaphor of becoming an adult. However, humans will always find their way to put you down. They’ll tell you your past is dirty and your path isn’t worth living. They’ll tell you the moon doesn’t exist and give you fancy quotes to prove it. This year I learnt that no matter how far you go, you can never truly go too far- battles weren’t meant for fleeing.
The moon, no matter how far it sounds, will still be not-far-enough, because even on the moon, you will find footprints of a human.

Ps; Today marks my 18th birthday. Now, I'm an adult- and I'm not sure I can handle such a title. What scares me is the difference one year can make. Here's to another year of absolute confusion, because let's face it, I'm always confused. But more importantly, here's to another year of love, laughter, lessons and family. 
I hear from a little bird that now I'm (legally) a woman; thank you, legal does have a nice ring to it. C'mon world, bring on the yearly blood tests that only "adults" get, who cares if I might faint 3 times at best? 

PPs: I love you, mom. I publicly confess my love and utmost gratefulness towards you. If it weren't for you, this year would have been a complete mess. Thank you for getting me through the bad times (and the really really bad times) and being there to clap for me during my good times. For all our letters, jokes, laughter, fights, make-ups, conspiracy theories, shopping sprees, debates in the car, debates everywhere and sisterly talks. I thank God for giving me what he knew I needed most. May we forever share the bond of girl power.

Yours with chills of birthday vibes, 

Friday, 19 June 2015

Dear Owls, the grey.

Dear Owls, 

I find myself wanting to be free, but feeding my own chains, wanting to run away, but finding places with quicksand. It's an odd adventure to float around your feelings, be cautious which ones you should visit and which you must leave behind.

I find myself wanting to do what's right, but racing from the past of mistakes. It's an odd feeling to have the overwhelming need to tell everyone you know that you're sorry, even if most of them owe you the apology. It's not fun, but it happens to the best of us (so I'm told...)

So, what happens when your walls are closing in and you feel like the only person you can ever rely on is yourself? What happens if you know you're happy, but you know you're not where you want to be? What happens when everybody around you seems to think someway and you're stuck in a magical level? The level of knowing too much but feeling too little. When you're wise enough to know what you did was wrong, but you're too scared to try to live again?

What happens in the grey? The space between white and black, when it's not wrong or right, just somewhere in the middle.
What happens when you explore all the colors?

Your past is not hidden. Your past is important, and a lot of people that I've met recently have told me otherwise, but I don't buy it for a second. It's impossible to think that the only thing you can do is live for the future- that only happens to the luckiest of us (if you can't relate to what I'm saying right now, you're probably the luckiest of us..)

Sometimes, grey gets boring though... and seeing the grey in situations is how you know you're officially older. Maybe, deep down, I just don't want to see in grey.

Yours always owls,
Baby Yoshi Blinking