Hearts and Heads
If I were to be an animal, I would want to be a shrimp. You see, shrimps have their hearts in their heads. I was thinking that maybe, if I am a shrimp, then I can tell my heart what to feel.
Or maybe, a starfish. So that I can grow back what I have lost.
Or an ostrich, whose eyes are bigger than its brains, so that I’ll be able to see more of the good things around me and less on thinking if I really should appreciate them.
I am not a shrimp. I can’t tell my heart not to feel hurt.
I am not a starfish so there’s no way for me to bring back those that I have already lost.
Nor am I an ostrich, and my eyes even desperately needs glasses.
Got so much thinking to do. And so much to feel. But one thing is sure, I can’t do it both.
That’s why I’m blogging. Blogging somehow consolidates my luxury to be free-feeling and free-thinking.
So what am I feeling exactly? Hmm. All sorts. Just a moment ago, I wanted to just take a bus and go home. I guess I love going back home because going home means I have gone some place. Everytime, when I am with Popsy and Momsy, all stories exchanged seem fresh and new even if we have already talked (or laughed) about them before. My work takes a sideline too because sharing it with them is like using birds-and-the-bees to explain sex. With them, discussions about our fave topics on politics and religion are just meant to be just that, merely discussions, and are soon forgotten as soon as we huddle in front of the television.
I felt stressed too.
No amount of music can appease my head from thinking about stuffs like remitting my insurance, settling my credit card, paying my visa application fee, finishing my requirements, completing my checklist, beating my deadline, writing a new catch phrase, rewriting an old teaser…
Then I felt scared.
I also felt like running away.
And then I felt tired just thinking about it.
So I guess I have to sleep on it.
Midnight has come again. I never seem to miss it.