Past. Present. Past. Present.

I have been thinking a lot about being able to learn from mistakes and avoid falling down the same slope again.

But I know, for most people, that is not an easy feat.

There is reason why history tend to repeat itself - is it because we didn't learn from the past? Or can we not compare because of the different times and different circumstances? Should that even become a contributing factor? If so, does that mean we will never be able to learn from our past because situations are incomparable?

I know someone who is trapped in his own glass box of time and self. He is unable to see beyond what his eyes are allowing him to see, and the edges of the glass limits his ability to accept that there are other ideas other than his own that can be right, and he could be wrong.

Ironically, this person is aware of his actions, his mistakes and his wrong-doings. And yet, that does not prevent him from saying the things he shouldn't say, or saying things that is moot and rather exacerbates the situation.

When both action and words can no longer be used to clear his mind and help him understand the world beyond his glass haven, what can be done?

The Blank Canvas of Friendship

Today, I am thinking of what it means to be a friend. A friend is a pillow during times when I feel utterly worthless. A friend is my free therapist who I know will always remain by my side, if not physically, but spiritually, mentally and emotionally. A friend is a piece of art, an essential part of my easel of life when I wield my paintbrush with doubt. Friends are there together, during certain times, and especially during times of uncertainty.

But today, I realized, my paintbrush is still dipped with the most brilliant color, ready to be flourished upon a well-traveled canvas. But there is no art, the pieces have broken into pieces.

And I am not sure if those broken pieces are replaceable, or can it be re-painted.

I have always been someone else’s pillow, that free therapist. However, I may not be that piece of art. At least not to the person I thought to be a friend.

Nothing serious has happened, but sometimes it’s the tiniest detail that allows you to think, to re-evaluate the relationships you have with another person.

Perhaps it is time for me to dump out the old canisters of paint and find new ones. To clean off the dried coats that once smeared across the caps. Perhaps I can no longer allow myself to continue painting images of blurriness and ingenuity, rather, it is time for clarity and true heart.

As we all I know, words are simple. Art can be simple.

But a true friend, a real friend, is as rare as Mona Lisa’s smile. 

As I drove through the highway last night, the road was dark and the only light source came from my newly fixed low-beams.

I enjoy darkness. Not because I naturally have a “dark” persona, nor am I a pessimistic person, nor do I have the habit of hiding. I simply find “calm” and “quiet” in darkness.

Leaving a crack of my car windows open, the night air embraced me. Filling my lungs with a crispness of air you can only feel at this time. I can almost feel the wheat, the grass, the cold dampness of the wind. It reminds me of my college years, where I would walk along the tiny streets beside the fields, feeling the grains though my fingers. It was the smell of serenity.

Hearing my engine purr softly beneath me, I took a moment to enjoy the darkness. Wishing the cars who drove next to me would pass quickly. Wishing the road would just go on.

But where would I end up? It would be unknown, but to know I have traveled long and hard to get there, sometimes that is all that counts, no matter where the destination ends up being.

My favorite moment is knowing everyone is asleep; warm under the protective covers of a well-loved duvet. My desk lamp is lit, a soft glow.

The surrounding shadows are my friends of the night. The stars shine a light for me for times when I am feeling rather bleak. The moon sits high above the grey clouds, reminding me there is always light through the darkness of the tunnel.

It is like wracking through your mind for that simple memory, for that moment in time you wish could remain still, for the people you love but have left you.

There is a reason why you are searching for that memory, to remember that person. Whether it’d be a lover or a lost sibling; the tunnel of darkness is your mind, and when you finally find that memory, you find light.

You remember that person, forever. 

Throwing the Cap and Jumping into Life

The moment I threw my own graduation cap into the air many years ago, I felt the cuffs of high school break from my wrists. The feeling was exhilarating, the bird is finally leaving its cage, the mermaid's wish to turn her magical fins into human legs was granted. It was the end of something dark, I was seeing a light through the tunnel of adolescence, finally I was leaving, leaving a place I so desperately wanted to disappear from.

Years later, I can still feel that desperation. The strong antipathy I thought I had for the institution I always held a grudge against for holding in the ubiquitous raging teenage hormones and putting a box on top of my head when I wanted to step out of the dotted lines. 


Was it really that bad? I thought so. Perhaps like every other teenager at the time. I call it my "emo" moment. Thinking the whole world was against me and didn't understand what I wanted to do with my life and it was so hard. It was just...so hard.


Now, I am doing what I love, I am in a place where I can't complain, and for the first time I can say life isn't too bad. 


Someone asked me if I regret feeling that way in high school, or if high school wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I told them, there is nothing that I regret, and I don't think I will ever regret anything. Whether it'd be a decision, or a feeling.


There is a reason why I made those decisions. There is a reason why I was feeling a certain way at a certain time. I don't think time and experience should change any of that. Because maybe, just maybe, if it wasn't because I was feeling a certain way to cause me to make those decisions, I wouldn't be sitting here today and telling you that I regret nothing. 


I still consider myself as a "youth", I also don't believe time and experience should change that. The advantages of being a youth is you are supposed to learn from your mistakes. You are supposed to experience everything the world gives you. You are supposed to fight battles and win wars, paving the way to your own happiness. 


Graduation season always reminds me of my own. Was I ever sad it ended? No. The moment I was able to throw that cap, I will never forget the pressure off my shoulders cleared off to take on a different type of pressure that is the real world. I was ready, a little scared but prepared for all of life's disappoints and wonders. 


I want to let our next generation know, if you find something you love, pursue it. It doesn't matter what other people say, it doesn't matter what other people think. What matters the most if yourself. You are the one in control of your life.