A world in a grain of sand

Drama dies when it reaches its surfeit, and words, fade. 

‎1. It’s easy to start something, but difficult to sustain it.

2. Often, those who have no power, can, while those who have loads, can’t.

3. Sometimes, the past deserves to stay in the past.

* * * * *

It’s so indicative of what I should be when I gaze at a two-line Air Force advertisement in the bus, weigh the syllables mentally, and admire the nifty use of iambic pentameter in the last line with even, symmetrical couplets to steadily deliver the message that THIS is the natural career choice for you a la the lub-dub of your heartbeat.

And this, the bus that carries me to The Institute.

* * * * *

“Well, this explains why teachers are the way they teach: they were taught by their teachers to leave students with no choice.” - Friend

In a poof, what is built tirelessly today is destroyed tomorrow; people disappear; loves vanish.

The tragicomedy of life dictates that he who invests most gets sidelined most, passed over for another to fervently invest in him and in turn receive a similar fate. 

The turning point of the same life dictates a gradual maturing into the understanding that you will one day reach this epiphany: that old friends are the only ones who can bring a true smile to your face by reminding you who you once were - and still are - and telling you they only want you to be you.

People always speak about what they want from you. Only the rare few speak about what they have to share with you without imposition.

* * * * * 

The more you’re assaulted with “experts” telling you what you need to know to be an “expert” yourself, the more you find yourself doubting yourself and losing the confidence you possessed while excitedly crafting lessons only a day ago.

Then you wonder how much of it is due to close-mindedness - or a simple indication that you’ve become a lot more attuned to the ground and less theoretical.

* * * * *

Sometimes, all we need is the space to be

ourselves

Everyday, we are assaulted senselessly by people telling us things they think we should know.

Everyday, we are inundated by work and more work, demands after demands, roles after roles.

With no space for a breather, the purpose is fatigue: the body is tired, we stop thinking, we buy things we don’t need, we work without questioning, status quo is preserved,

hegemony shows.

Furniture tossed around and cupboards slammed vehemently in counterpoint to a child’s heartrending shrieks. A few floors down, fingers pause above a handphone, mid-contemplation over a music collaboration aborted at the clamour of domestic violence.

A memory.

Accelerando.

Which is crueller, a punitive system that chokefeeds barrelfulls of content and shuts down the thinking that makes us human - even to us adults in teacher training college - or these impotent words onscreen?

* * * * *

It stopped after this post.

Immediately after.

It takes a birthday for existential brevity to kick in so strongly that you purposefully exile yourself from school and spend me-time elsewhere with history and art as companions. There is no full-stop to work.

There is a full-stop to life.