Meanwhile, once in a while,
I have chanced, among the quick things,
upon the immutable.
What more could one ask?

And I would touch the faces of the daises,
and I would bow down to think about it.

That was then, which hasn’t ended yet.

Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light,
I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean’s edge.

I climb, I backtrack.
I float.
I ramble my way home.

— Mary Oliver, Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches? | West Wind: Poems and Prose Poems

Thanks, C.

Looking in. Staring out. Sometimes, we just can’t bring ourselves to be content. When you look in or stare out, I hope you’d see your reflection on the glass window. That’s all that you have.

Never think that you’re simply settling. Or think that you’re missing out. Or that you’re incomplete. What you see reflected — it’s good. It’s yours. It ought to be enough.

What you should be wary about is finding yourself holding onto an illusion. I wouldn’t want to be forever lost in figuring out whether if I was actually outside, looking in or inside, staring out.

There are a million things I can think of that I can be thankful for. A million different ways how I’ve tasted the sweetness of life. It can be likened to the melt-in-your-mouth experience with every bite of a creamy flan. You’d wish it would last longer. I guess that adds to its allure. The constant change makes every experience sweet or, perhaps, bittersweet.

For now, I can only aspire for a full, rich life in every sense. Always keeping in mind that regardless of where I’m coming from, where I am, or where I’m going, life will forever be sweet.

You’re often difficult but I’m not giving up. Though my time is limited, I’ll do my very best to get noticed until it’s time to go. I’ll bud, bloom, and be fragrant. And in that moment, I’ll shine.

Getting there will be one hell of a ride. It’s best to know that I never held back. I’ll leave you with no regrets.

So, yea.

Hello, world.