A couple of days ago after I entered the previous entry, I thought and felt as if I was writing a letter to myself. Rather, maybe I was writing these thoughts down in case one day I lost my memory or maybe all these thoughts would act as a manual of sorts?
No I can’t really lie about this, even though my previous comment was still truthful. No I confess that it feels as though my previous two entries were trying to get the two sides of me to accept each other. Imagine a giant metal gate that leads to each world. Each world houses a different aspect of myself. One world is a hellish battlefield with constant unrest and the other world is a mellow place with lush rolling hills and nostalgic oceans.
One of the things I enjoyed doing by myself was lay on a field in the summer, pick up a daffodil and rotate it by its stem between my thumb and index finger. I like the sky in the backdrop while I do that. The feeling is nice when no one else is around.
You know, in one of my previous entries, Albert had tried to talk me out of restraint. However, though a part of me could, an even larger part of me still would not. It’s like swimming. I can’t swim, but I’m sure I can learn, but though I say to myself I will learn every summer for the last four years, I haven’t even initiated it. Of course, that’s slightly a bad example but the concept is good enough.
I do wish I can let go sometimes and just do it but my rationality and learned principles counter almost everything I bring up.
In our conversations earlier this week, we both agreed that cycling gives us considerable amount of time to think because it is a sport that does not require a lot of constant thought. So when I ride in the country side, I think a lot. The route I take, I get to see all of Vancouver, Burnaby, New West and beyond that. When I take a rest at the stopping point, I browse through the horizon and think back on the nights and days running and bussing around. At that rest point, I get reminded of many things. In my rides, I also think about many things.
I don’t know about you, but when I think deeply about sentimental moments, favored music gets added to the back of my thoughts and act as a background song of sorts. It’s subtle, but powerful, especially if a friend is riding with me and suddenly talks to me – the feeling is like a dream that always runs away from me. I can almost touch it but I cannot grasp it.
Why do you run away from me, or rather, maybe I’m the one running away from it?
[grins with a slight heartache]
The song I’m listening to is called “Imperial Princess”. It’s vocal-less, but it’s about a crowned princess who volunteered to take the reigns to unite her country after years of war. Her obstacles are two-fold: one side are the ultra conservatives and the other, the reformists.
Tune: “Imperial Princess” by Kawai Kenji[audio:http://swollencheeks.com/milktea/audio/imperialprincess.mp3]
Well, that’s that. I need sleep. At this point, I feel as though I have a lot I want to say but I don’t want those dreams here. At least, not when I am still alive.