i know now who i must be. i am just afraid to take the first step.

for those who just tuned in, my job is travelling. that is what i do. i am a linguist, a player of language; i am a writer, an obsessive little scribe; and more and more each day, i am a photographer, of which i have great love for. i have had great mentors, and what is more important, i have had great friends. not many, but great nonetheless, who have and are notoriously as well as unconsciously been polishing this rough gem.

i feel a rising in me. you know that cliche about things happening for a reason. i feel the cumilative surge of the years of semingly unrelated circmstances. as if i have been in training all this while for my time on stage.

then again, isn’t all the world’s a stage?

i feel that there is more to me that i realise. than anyone realised. what it is, i don’t really know. all i do know is that something is in there. somewhere. and unless i do something about it, to release it, it will stay locked in there forever.

some people call it potential. i think that unrealised potential is the most wasteful thing in the world.

so where do i begin? what do i do? people tell me that my time will come, my time will come. so here is why i am writing this post: something in me tells me that the time is soon. so soon. that before i know it, is is the now.

maybe i have been reading too much paolo coelho. ‘the zahir’ really is not as provoking as ‘ the alchemist,’ but it does make you ask yourself questions, nevertheless.

can circumstances leading up to a span of reality be realised simply by abook written by a man who doesn’t even know you exist?

i see the signs. a light shines through and more and more everyday, i see the shadows clearing and my path illuminated. i remain afraid.

what if it is an oncoming train?

Carry me to the shoreline
Bury me in the sand
Walk me across the water
And maybe you’ll understand

Once the stone
You’re crawling under
Is lifted off your shoulders
Once the cloud that’s raining
Over your head disappears
The noise that you’ll hear
Is the crashing down of hollow years

-hollow years, dream theatre


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s