Pages and pages of journal fill up the spaces in my waking hours, that very sub-consciousness of my mind. I am often bother by the constant withdrawal into the realm of my own thoughts away from reality. Then again, what is reality when it is only seemed through the mind? Someone once said in a movie that life is about searching for the truth and upholding it. But what is the truth? I am not too sure.
My writings are about my experiences or thoughts. It also contains my hope and emotions facing love. And I am completely lost. There aren’t any road signs or map. I guess we all have to find our own way to paradise. If only love could find its own way home to our heart.
“To have loved is to have lived” – where does that put me: just another 32 years old virgin? That will miss the whole point of my existence, or as a matter of fact, of any human beings. Men are created to love and give lives, to spread their seeds and produce offspring. That only serves to explain adultery and polygamy, not our identity and purpose. I continue with my search for true happiness - the moments when I am completely comfortable with myself. Again, the emptiness and social stigma of being single distract me, tormenting and tearing my soul apart into tiny bits. It will take sometime to pick up the fragments and to piece them together. It takes courage and determination of steel. But soon after, my soul like my wings will be punctured with chips and cracks again. And the whole process is repeated again and again, deferring my hopes to fly among the angels. I reckon the day that I would feel weary of this world without recuperation will not come. For life is, after all, beautiful like the rainbow amid the rain.
PS: I can feel the touch of her hand on my hand, skin against skin. I can see the twinkle in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile. I miss the smell and softness in her hair. I reach out my hands, only to grab thin air. I realise she is not here beside me.
Paradise = True happiness = being comfortable with oneself, not = Love