思い出せば。。。

"For you!" The little boy exclaimed, thrusting a lopsided paper boat filled with wild daisies at the squatting man.

The man smiled and reached to pat the boy on the head. Though, his fingers barely touched the golden threads as the little boy quickly dashed toward his mother sitting beside the pond.

The man chuckled to himself and shook his head in an amused kind of way. His eyes drifted toward the horizon. The sun was beginning to set. It was twilight already.

He could hear the melodic shouts and laughter from the little boy echoing in the distance.

The glow of the retiring sun graced every surface with a soft sheen of gold.

The man savored this moment... for who knows when a moment so precious as this will grace itself upon him again.

---
Forget it...

Maybe everything will make sense later.

Hurriedly, she ran towards the willow tree. The air was still, save for the minute breezes that occasionally waltzed by. The grass bent beneath her delicate white slippers. Her silver hair danced about upon her shoulders as her skirt flailed against her legs.

A lark's distant cry, broke the stillness.

"You're back..." She breathed.

Time... bringer of joy, bringer of sorrow.

---
There are times when I really wish I that I cannot dream. Or at least, to forget them as quickly as I have them.
It was that stupid dream again... only this time I had to watch you die. I suppose... this doesn't mean anything much, but it still instills a deep sense of fear into me. I do not know why. I really shouldn't allow this to bother me, but I can't. Ever since that day... I can't stop thinking about it... what could have happened? What I should or should not have done... But, ultimately the fault was mine. It was always mine. So, perchance, this is why these dreams came to be. This guilt.

I can protect you from everything and anything... all except for death. Truly, I wish I could protect you from even the hands of death.  If not so, then... I wish to return Home before you, so that I may be spared of that pain. So, that I may welcome you instead. But, alas, I am just being selfish.

I wonder, is happiness temporary? Or is it sorrow that is temporary?

Some say, by nature, we are sorrowful creatures, being ripped away from the life before birth.

The first thing we experience in life is crying. Does that justify that aforementioned sorrowful nature of ours?

I can only speculate that the answer is different for every person. I believe our background--the experiences, acquaintances, and surroundings that have shaped us in our lifetime--is the factor that molds our answer to that query.

If one had been around the block a few times, then their view of happiness and sorrow would differ from one that was not.

If all one knew was sorrow, then it becomes the "base" in their field of emotion. Happiness would be something that comes along once in a while, a temporary experience. Though, if one was brought up in a more joyful environment, then that would be the "base" instead. Happiness would be the norm, whereas sorrow would be something that is temporary.

Of course, by stating that, I have committed the fallacy of two extremes. What about neutrality? And all the other emotions in between. I cannot only address and assume that all we feel is either sorrow or joy. There are many many others out there that must be taken into consideration.

But, I digress. The original query was whether happiness or sorrow was temporary. I suppose, there will never be an actual answer to that--an answer that applies to everyone.

Maybe neither emotions could be temporary. Perhaps, they exist at the same time, counter-balancing each other, ensuring the existence of each. There is no "base" emotion. One can only speculate the possibilities.

To me, happiness will always have that evanescent quality, making it more precious. It is something that I have grown accustomed to. I have become numb to it, in a way. Though twisted as it sounds, I find comfort in sorrow, for it grants me this insight, opening my eyes. I am granted the opportunity to step back from the rest and see everything in a different perspective. It's tantamount to a game of chess, shifting from player to spectator. As a spectator, you see both sides of the game, whereas a player is only limited to one side.

Whether it's a worthy sacrifice I do not know. Blindness for the sake of joy. Sight for the sake of sorrow.

  "Escape to paradise..."
"Find yourself once again in paradise..."

The search for this "paradise" does not know the bounds of time. For as long as humanity has existed, there exists the search for a flawless land of bliss where one can forget their pains and sorrows.

Where there exists stress, pain, despair... a paradise will be sought.

There are many means of escape, be it physical or mental. One may turn to quiet meditation to ease the soul of such emotional burden. Perchance, one may also retreat to music. In a physical sense, one may board the most convenient mode of travel to a place that they deem as paradise... a place away from the thing(s) that is the root of their suffering.

Paradise is a different thing to each person. A place one deems as so, may, perhaps, be a place of torture for others. Each has its unique attributes that makes it the paradise it is to the person.

Yet, that feeling of relief is but temporary... whatever demons that are chasing them, will return.

This idea of escaping from these emotions is welcoming. But, the evanescent quality of this escape makes paradise seem sadistic almost. The place that serves as a sanctuary becoming a place of sorrow, for when the time comes for one to leave that place... the demons will creep back into the consciousness, burdening the soul once more.

Perhaps, we should not depend on things "outside" of us for relief. We should rely on the thing we can depend on most, the one that is always with us regardless... we should rely on ourselves.

It is only if we find those demons that lurk in us, that we may truly "be in paradise." This is tantamount to fighting off a fungal infection. A yeast infection, for an example. Yeast, once inside the body, burrows deep within the tissues because of the way they reproduce. Branches called Hyphae serve as roots, anchoring itself in the tissue... so in order for the yeast cells to bud and reproduce. In order to fully rid of the yeast infection, one must attack the Hyphae, the "roots." If the Hyphae are not destroyed, then the infection will persist. Just as we must seek out the "root" of our reason to seek out paradise.

If we find out what the core of the reason is, then the need for paradise will be obsolete. Since... that paradise will be ourselves, for in actuality, that place already resides in us.

What causes that pain, that despair, is our struggle with our demons. To rid the soul of it... that pain would disappear. The constant battle with them would also cease to exist. There would be peace... and that paradise would be realized. Inner peace, would be a fitting term to describe this.

But, alas, this feat is nearly impossible for it is simply just "easier said than done."

The darkness is almost tangible in the night. The reflection of her soft glow... distorted by the face of the lake.

Her cloak of black velvet fills the sky's void. Small specks of crystal decorates her velvety garb, brought to life by the her light. Silently... slowly she moves flawlessly across the decadent darkness... her decadent dance.

Day after Day she returns to perform her lovely dance. Sometimes with a wispy white veil over her face.

But for what reason?

Alas, to search for her lover... the Sun.

....

.______.; Sometimes I wonder why I still post here. Weird.

The room was silent except for the warm crackling fireplace. Mum and pappy were slumbering on the battered couch. Pip was curled up near the heath, where it provided shelter against the winter cold. She set herself upon one of the wooden chairs settled near the frosted window, staring out into the fast falling snow, her head resting on  the ice cold panes. The smell of tonight's dinner of Gruyere and boiled potatoes lingered in the air. All was still, except for the dancing shadows cast by the glowing embers.

Today had been a busy day, preparing for the Yuletide. Pappy went tree hunting with Pip while she and mum decorated the humble cottage with clippings of mistletoe and evergreen.

The snow-capped mountains have never seemed so inviting.

...
I really hate how I act first and then feel guilty over the consequences.  I have promised myself that I wouldn't act as rashly... but sadly I break that promise every time. And along with that every time, I hold in more guilt and anger towards myself.

Maybe that's the issue, I hold back too many of my emotions, especially anger, since my family looks down upon that. Perchance, I've held it in too long. To a point where I have reached my capacity and I just...snap. But alas, that does nothing but continue the endless cycle...filling up with guilt again and more anger at myself. I doubt I'll ever get out of this... but I believe that I must do something about it since it doesn't hurt just me. I mean it this only affected myself, I could care less...

Today was a splendid day. She went picking lavender for tonight's creme brulee with mum and their Labrador, Pip.

The cerulean sky was without blemish, save for the tiny clouds beyond the snow-capped mountains.The sun basked over the quiet, motionless sea of light purples and deep greens. There was a lone willow tree in the distance, near the pond. Bright green lily pads of various sizes decorated the face of the water. But there weren't any flowers. Once in a while, a light breeze would waltz through, disturbing the stillness of it all.

She was exploring the vastness of the field, holding out her hand to feel every blade of grass. Pip happily chased the unfortunate dragonflies that happened by. Mum was busy picking lavendar, looking up occasionally to check on her.

She stopped. The sight of the willow caught her eye.

...

.___. I'm worrying about something, but I don't know what. It could just be my looming editorial that I've yet to finish or...I just don't know.

He's back in my life again. I don't know whether to kick him out or welcome him back with open arms. I should have just ignored him from the start. I don't want to go through all that drama again. I really don't understand how he can come back and pretend that nothing's happened. All those things he said.... I mean he was the one who told me to "[expletive] off." And I did. I'm tired of all these crazy mind games.

I don't know what he wants anymore. I never wanted a relationship in the first place, I was only there to help. As a friend. Apparently, he took that gesture and twisted it into something else. Perhance, this is all a product of his own doing--his own creation.

Maybe it's not worry. Maybe it's apprehension... fear.