And

And so he said, ‘I’ve got a new year’s resolution!’ And then they said, ‘you shouldn’t start a sentence with, “And” ’. And he replied, ‘Go to hell!’ hypothetically of course. As usual, he was leading the road he was put on, a path that still needs repairing and possibly even changing, his every step was filled with precautionary ones though he was innately brought to life with nothing but curiosity.

He had a few amendments – a brand new year! But they rejoice, always finding some means to excuse their overly pompous deeds, but the west do it and they’re the epitome of success and happiness, funny how these people become exemplary.

Sorry about that, his amendments, after realizing that he couldn’t completely disregard what others think, he would try his best to care less than he does about the mass, who are a mess. Really when one has chosen a different path from the masses, it seem their train of thought, ideologies and everything differs.

The hermit then gestured as he was embracing his child, ‘this is my daughter.’ He said. She was 5 months old and cute and innocence seemed protruding from those shiny little eyes. He eyed the child who was untainted, beautiful and pure. The hermit was still facing him and so was the baby, he stood there as if expecting something from him. At this, the peasant said, ‘who is a peasant to greet a blessing from heaven?’ The hermit was still standing there unperturbed; there was a pause and then he feeling slightly aghast extended a finger towards her little hand and she took his finger and clasped her palm around his finger. He could feel her delicate grip. The peasant felt warmth—the hermit said, ‘don’t over think things. Pure beings, don’t differentiate.’

Along the way back home he still couldn’t get his mind off the occurrence; how was a peasant given equal treatment? She was white and seemed to emit light; he was black and a target to be spat at. This wasn’t the world he was used to.

And what is intelligence? He questioned. And what is a person who claims to have acquired an abundance of intelligence, what then does he achieves? Peace and purity, understanding and piety? ‘Though no man is really fit to say that.’ He added while I seemed to be listening attentively.

His legs, they started to itch, he was diseased, diseased brought by some insects from the wilderness of the east, he took out a bottle that contained some curable oil. He was rubbing his palm across his leg. He spoke, ‘as much as this itches and pain it was nothing compared to the bruises that lurks in my heart, where no oil nor ailments could ever reach, where the pain still persist and never cease’.

The earth’s rotation, is it consistent? Why does it appear to have fastened? His thoughts consumed him, he then said, ‘for all I know I am still a child who was dependent, embracing innocence, playful but with contentment. Every single moment of my young life, where my mother went, I followed resembling a duckling and that provided with me security, stability and happiness. It was as if that was solely what I did, my goals. He stopped talking and for a few minutes he remained quiet. He looked at me and said, ‘Now I have come to a better realization, that is what I did, I had a guide, I had protection and I followed it and stayed close to it from the moment I opened my eyes to the moment I closed them; never to let her out of my side. Suddenly I have over grown and not prepared to adjoin the world, I am comfortable being innocent and undisturbed by the world’s malice and character…and now I am an adult man? Here I am dreading life, embracing paranoia, befriending greed and fantasizing a delusional ever-changing happy ending that puts even the most colorful fairy tales to shame. When I was a child my dreams were more upright and I don’t remember wanting this and that. When I was a child I had a guide, now that I am an adult, who befits to be my guide?’

Like the opposite version of a flower that blooms in the morning, the curse of adulthood subsisting and the conquest of a self-searching man seem useless and is now lost in his intertwining journey and he is torn on what is enlightenment.

The roads I have taken, the people I have met, the people I have briefly met, the causes that seemed impossible to meet, the quest of a better human world has lost it’s passion. The quest to self enrichment hath set sailing, the wisdom that was there all along, the belief that makes one sound, bestowed by holy men, a feat many will fail to comprehend, but it lies right before your eyes, if only you were set out to see and if you do see, it only marks a beginning of a brand new journey.

Like a boy who just reached puberty, filled with bright curiosity and excitement on the wondrous beauty and mysteries it hides. Like being brought to the world again without prejudice and bias. As he becomes an adult, he notices that he needs a guide and something to follow; sadly a man has to mend his own ways. More than often he is drifted and lost in the many ways.

The irony, the sheer timing of a shift in purpose and a new perception that appears clear has resulted to a change of heart, one that instills importance on how the self-deceits than on others and their misdeeds.