Writing and Dreaming and Reading...

I've been told again and again not to question. I've been told to just appreciate it and live it. Every single moment. 

But even so, I'm not made that way. I can't help myself from wondering. 

The earlier shades of grey of yesterday with brilliant streaks in between seems so pale in comparison of the vibrant pulsing madness of today. It seems so unreal. Is it really me? Again, the changes that shifts of time make disorient me. I've lost my bearings, but I don't really want to go where I thought I wanted to before. It's as if my world has changed. But it changed so fast. Like there's no rhyme or reason to it. I have changed. But I am the same. And I'm not sure how that happened.

But the funny thing is, I'm still here. I'm still at the same place that I was last year. There are still so many things that haven't changed. But the very essence of the moment isn't the same anymore. 

I am amazed. The players were all there, in their concentric circles, coming close but never meeting. I remember, there were flashes of recognition at times. For a moment, I did wonder, who you are. I did stare at your name, your picture, before dismissing it completely. It could have been a flash of premonition. An echo in time. How was I to know? How were we supposed to know? 

The histories are etched permanently in the walls of life and sometimes I see it and trace my fingers upon the lines and I wonder, what happened if I was there? I study, the moment where our lines converged into a picture. I wonder, why this moment? Why this place? Why us?

I can't dismiss the enormity of it. But I fear, am I making too much of it? It's no ordinary thing. But could it be more ordinary than I believe? It's the amazing mundane. Like a flower blooming, like rain, like miracles?

How could I not be grateful? Why me? I seem like the last person you could ever think to be chosen. I've been so used to hearing the stories it's so weird when I'm part of it. I'm part of the story. And I feel like such an awkward character. Stumbling my way through the lines and the scenes, bewildered. Biting my lip and cursing myself. Could I really be ready for this play? And everyone else is dancing gracefully. Everyone else knows their cues and the very flicks or their wrists expressive. They're synchronized they're brilliant. And maybe even made for a bigger, better, grander stage. But they chose this one. Even when the rest are within their reach. In a daze I wonder, could it be? Truly?

But even so, I'm smiling. I'm smiling every single day. I'm not taking it for granted. I don't allow my perplexity to ruin the joy. There is a reason, even if I don't know it. There is something that pulls us together. And there is love. There is imagination. There is possibility. There is a future. The road ahead, we already imagine traversing it together, with our hearts full and sparkles in our eyes. Like shining stars we know we are beautiful, and we make it our strength.

Every night I wonder, while watching the night sky, the twisting of fates and times. Nobody knows how long this space is going to last. How long would we be together like this? If this could happen in a blink of a circle, then what could stop it from disappearing in the next? What else would time bring? Could we really be together forever?

(To friends.)