Awe

Series of superfluous dealings made me want to just disappear in thin air, like how a bubble blissfully hovers in the course of the wind and drifts with it. And the next second, the bubble looses its life, weary, somnolent and bursts majestically, unwarned. How should life work that way? I wonder. What if everyone thinks of the same way, bleak, desperate and unpromising whenever impasses brush away the roots of their feet--barely seizing? What would be left of mankind?

Then and there, I still marvel.

---

I couldn't get myself straightened up, nor clear the mangled thoughts my psyche's inhabiting. Slowly, I'm growing used to the feel. When did I ever think of less? Gibberish questions rhythmed the onset of doubt. "What if I'll be this, what if I'll be that"--pointless. Reconsidering them, What if I did? Will it make a difference?

And again, I'm awed.