Aizat and I spent the last hour of the Saturday listening to old tracks from X'Scapists. Man, I had an awesome reminiscence of those times.
The things we used to write about sounds like things which were bigger than ourselves as an individual entity. Collectively, we represented something we ourselves barely fathom. I guess thats what dreams are made of, something bigger than the present.
At that point in my life, I was in love with the likes of Neil Gaiman and lived in the illusion of The Sandman. It was a coincidence that earlier in the day, I was watching Stardust, which happens to be my favourite Gaiman book.
I guess I've always been akin to the idea of dreams and magic, like how I feel my sense of rationale does a disappearing act on me when I get lost in an idea. I've learned long and hard that a dream, as in a wanting, that does not come true can haunt you in reality.
What is real? This is not real. I only see preconditions to a future I have no control over, and preconceived notions based on my past experience i.e. fear. Fear is a son of a mother that reasons itself in doubt, anticipating a past that requires letting go. It would sure help if someone came up with an instructional manual on letting go. The things that sounds the easiest are the hardest to do. Some days, I'm haunted by the past afflictions, I watch my idle mind walk into a nightmare, and I lose all control.
I was a casuality, who casually seeks comfort in dreams but what happens when the dream turns into a nightmare? A dream has no boundaries, it begins and ends with your imagination. Your imagination is a reflection of the thoughts in your head. If I were truly living this life like I was in a dream, then all my thoughts would be of the best, and all my dreams would come true, or at least come with a truce to my present day.
The fact is that I used to be a dreamer. I had so many small dreams, although there was never a big dream. One day, all those dreams ceased, and there was only one dream, which was a simple one, but it seemed most out of reach. That broken dream, led to a broken heart, but if it taught me anything, it told me to be grateful of the good, and to be patient with the bad.
This was how I ended up drowning in the details of my own life. It is selfish of me to confine myself in the constricts of my own afflictions.
Life is like a dream painted on a huge canvas, the big picture is a beauty words cannot describe. The intricate design speaks of divinity in a language that can only be understood by the heart. There I was, so focused on the technicality of the details, when magic is magic. Perhaps not understanding something completely is a gift only understood by time.
Time is a funny thing that depletes proportionally to how fast you chase after it, and slows down when you are at ease. So, be still heart.
Well, I've made Yvaine and Tristan pause long enough for me to write this. Time to unravel into Stardust and watch them rule the world.
- love and light, adrenalene