Last night the gang wanted to watch a movie. "It's not that late still" one voice decried.
"Tell you what: we can go to bed now and wake up early to watch movies," I said.
Not that I wanted to convey any wisdom, but I've always been a morning person. Oftentimes, as the day dawns, I yawn and peep through the windowpane the spectacle of morning. It's rare that I'm not up by then and watch the proverbial sunrise.
That's how my day starts. Like a crossword puzzle solved in reverse, the world gradually emerges from the darkness it has been enshrouded since nightfall; sunlight brakes reverberating thru the foliage, and a new day takes shape. As it happens, you become aware of its layers and pigments, its cavities and dentures, all the weird dissonant accidents and imperfections life bestowed upon, largely dismissed by having been assigned a name, categorized, forgotten. How weird things would be without having someone named them? All phenomena, every insignificant bit of concentrated information captured, wondrous lands shrank down to microscopic, digitized sizes. The world of our senses is deceptive and it can very well fool us, distorting the nature of what is, has been or will be, as everything falls into one. We move lighting-fast through these experiences which amount to a fuzzy and curious molecular combo bouncing off a funky beat that beckons our existence. In this dimension we find ourselves trapped in, we're adeptly building more cells within the prison of our minds.
I say "ours", because it's a collective mind, a gladiatorial arena of voices that resemble more a roar, and it's us in the middle of that bloodbath, centered-stage, glorified madness, lifting fists and shouting. It's our godsend right to revolt, be unruly, dethrone, fire, stir some controversy, spite others, tease girls, go out, fuck, fly, run, drink, kill, feed, rebel, morph unto another self, a brand new being born out of the chaos and perfectly aligned symmetry of things that surround us. There's really nothing out there; it's just like a mirage that your mind conceives of in order to amuse itself and shake the firewall of reasoning just to show off who's really in charge. It's scary if you study closely how your mind tends to deceive you in order to get served, how a distorted and wicked version of yourself behind the curtains of your mind is really in control. Gradually, you'll just have to wage an all-out assault on that animal dwelling within, it may seem larger and stronger than it actually is because your mind fears it that way. But you can make progress in small ways everyday, own every corner of your soul and tame the factions that defy your rule. Harbor no thought without a constructive purpose!
And it's us, in the middle of all that has been made possible and all the impossible things that will come. It's fear all over again, stagnation and laziness; and procrastinating, once more; and being indecisive, again.
As you fully awake to a new day that has just unraveled before your very eyes, sun rays light up the sky, ridding the night of its encumbered specters, like hands that go and unearth thighs buried beneath castles of sand on a beach that is now only a fading, light-years away memory. What to do with the memories as to what the future holds? Let's reminisce on things to come, I once said. Around the same time, if not since a lot longer than then, I began to visualize the energy that I invest into everything that my mind puts to motion (actions). I pace myself and see the one I am becoming, how time slows down in my being and how external forces do not have the same tenacity and incite the same carnage as it once did. It's how I manage anxiety. It's how time comes to a standstill. It's how I age gracefully, and how I approach everything that crosses my path. Layer upon layer of experience, I fill with joy, purpose, leisure, set in motion. The animated connections in the mind all echo back to the core, I scream out loud from within, so that no one can hear me, splashed all over these words, massacring an honorable silence, bred in secrecy, forged in loyalty: "Presence. Pretense."
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