Uncertain

I fled into the wilderness of the streets of the metropolis. I quickly went down and used the mobile stairs going up. I merged with the pool of supposed and presumed workers of the area. I merged with my idea of being lost, of being not able to determine where I must go. I never felt lonely. I felt willed to pursue paths as chosen. I finally have myself, in solitude, in the midst of my thoughts disoriented themselves, in flashes, in dramatic fading and recurring, and in endless coming through. How disturbing this state could be. No one else endures, but myself, I am, uncertain.

Questioning without the slightest human interest and desire, I went on traversing the various pictures of superficiality and wealth, of people undyingly living up to the deceit of opportune commercialism. Goals kept occurring in my thoughts. I ended up going undetermined of the flow of what my own desire itself is.

I went back. I traced the ways have my thoughts left. And I stopped. I sufficed the inevitability of the physiological necessity to take something to churn, to put to waste. I did anyway. I succumbed to such drive. And I was brought in a strange ubiquitous scenario of what is and what is not. I didn’t have much time to narrate a whole ludicrous and pitiful story of the recent past that I have somehow gone over with. Still, the nuanced and strange moment was one of uncertainty.

I went over this knock-off, communicative device. Pity me. I tried to show that I can also be like them, but I couldn’t. I am different. I am myself. I can never pattern a life of an individual with a different story. I have my own story. I have to live up to it. I should be in it. Again, I myself am uncertain.

Like some vagabond, I went up. Sat.    I felt the cold. I can sense the frayed leather coverings of the seats. It’s my daily regimen of a life that leads nowhere else but merely some material desires. Some uncertainty.

Uncertain.

Foil Wraps: Association to Myself

Being asked at times of some metaphor to oneself is nothing to fret about. It is often asked in slum books or simply in social networking sites. Just the though of it excites anyone as it entails some playful conceptualization so to say of some object that would totally define oneself. And it is simply just some common precept to think in the present context. Any object will do. Anything will just be fine.

When asked of something to which I can identify myself, I never thought it was an-ocean-to-a-can parallelism. It was indeed hard to think of. I kept deepening my thoughts. At times, I could just have one object in mind; but in the end, I simply frown about seeing myself in such perhaps brought about by some lack of sophistication, I think, and just some lack of intellectual depth.

Having been through so much in life, there could be no better way than to see myself in the quality and use of aluminums. I was fond of it during my childhood when I used to play with it, sticking it to my teeth, chewing it even before spitting, and just making something out of it after being turned into some ball. It was just one of my joys that still, a part of it, lingers today. And now, I see myself in this household necessity in the character that it has and that I think I embody myself of.

Malleability is apparent in these foils. Adaptability is something that I figure of myself having been into so much of life’s, as I always say, unfair dilemmas. And being able to suit oneself in every plausible and inevitable situation is just exemplification of some persistence. And this can be concretized in these wraps. Looking back at when I was simply happy and satisfied with my life, I could see that piece I had could actually be made into something I just wanted. It was more than fun.

This then goes to another characteristic of these household must. In the hands of the bearer, or in reality, in life, these foils can be made into something, whether it be rubbish, or simply made out of ingenuity. Just like in my case, there had been times when I had to trample myself back due to some frustrations, but never to the point of being left futile. And after some unlikely circumstances, I tend to get back to where I was and just simply pursue what I think has to be pursued. Just like any wrap, after it has been crumpled or torn into pieces, it can still be seen as something of use, well probably because of its shimmer that is more elaborate in its crumpled disposition. And I very much see myself as someone who sees every situation as not merely a product of fate, but just a process of choice and of being better or worse in the same context of choice.

It is just worth a daydream to think of the days where I could just be some kid playing around in the neighborhood. It is just simply fond to think of the days where I just cuddle with my mom in bed while listening to and feeling the cold of an afternoon rain. It is just tempting to regress and look back to these days, to just become the kid in the comforts of home. But in these days, sometimes, simple things emerge to define oneself. It is in these frivolities that not only make one remember those fine days, but just reflect one’s person after years of being through a lot in life, in its most unfair and best. I see myself in these foil wraps not as being fond of it or simply to put in chick slum books or some profile tidbits to get some networks of friends’ attention, but just the character that it is, I can see myself, I can truly present myself.

In these foils that my mother had used for our macaroni salad, in these wraps that she had used for the left over cake, and in these aluminums that I used to get from chocolate under-peeling, I can see a self that has gone through so much, and that which I say myself.

Levers, Joints, and Sockets

At certain times, a lot could just be hard to understand. There are things that one wants to do, but he/she would most times come to a point of incomprehensibility. These things would seem hard to grasp, to lay upon. I have been meaning to say that I am now at a point wherein I don’t have the clearest idea of where I could be, and where I should be. I just recently checked on someone I fancied for quite long in my college senior year, and I saw how corporately, freaking, good looking he was. I felt bad about myself then. And things began to go in jumbles. I then immediately tried to make myself feel a bit better by looking over some jobs I think would push me to greater prosperity, as they say, just so I could have some advantage over him, that I could see myself getting better. A lot of things have gone through my mind, and I couldn’t laser-point at each of them. I seriously don’t know what to do. I was somehow in good thinking prior to this day. It suddenly occurred to me that I could do just way better than what I am doing now. I just opted to indulge in complacency and false fulfillment. It’s hard to fix things, my mind when I feel that I am not better than anybody else. I used to be insanely attracted to this guy before. Then suddenly, I just felt that I should be better than him. I just felt that I should be over him, no matter how ridiculously sounding it is. I would have to spare this writing from a long ludicrous story of pretense, pressure, and childish plays. But the whole story could be reached to its end by saying that I was somehow pushed to do more than I could because of him, of the envy that I was feeling the whole time, of the thought that things are simply at their most unfair. I began thinking that I could have just been motivated by him. I began asking myself if I should have that external motivation for me to be so great. And now, everything seems to be in the air. I just have to let past days for me to get to the point of where I should be. Things just come quite too tactual to be laid hands upon. I just want to keep myself dragged every morning to do what I can do. I should be elsewhere by this time. Maybe, I am just quite driven by certain irrational impulses. Very distractive or destructive I may say.