Closing Pandora's Box

“Exhausting,” he said to her. “Kids are such work. I can’t wait to have kids of my own, but sometimes thinking about it is scary.”

“Hmm I feel the same way sometimes,” she replied. “Then I slap myself and shout silently ‘How can I bring such beautiful innocence into THIS world.’”

“When you look at the world what do you see? I don’t know about you, but I look at the world, I see it through eyes dark and colourless. It's a bit like blue jeans. No matter how blue they are to begin with, those areas that are constantly stretched and rubbed and poked lose their colour over time. Especially at the knees. Just before they’re about to rip and leave a gaping big hole, they turn colourless. Same with these eyes of mine. Death, failure, loss, destruction, persecution, sorrow and hurt. You name it, they’ve seen it all and they too have lost their colour. The thing is when something loses its colour, it catches other colours around it much more quickly. Like a plain white piece of paper can be painted any colour whereas a bright red one will not show all of them as well. And at this stage, these sunken eyes of mine notice the beauty, notice the hope, notice the love, notice the sacrifice and notice the good, no matter how small it may be. Indeed, there are vast areas lacking light, but if you look hard enough, in the right places, you’ll see it too. Look inside yourself, deep down where the soul resides and you’ll notice that no matter how grimy you may be on the surface the light within continues to burn burn bright. A street lamp gives the same light as when it was new, except the pollution of the cars and the dust deposited by the wind may make it seem otherwise. Now imagine that light multiplied 7 billion times. It would be blinding. The problem isn’t that there is no light in the world. The problem is that most people don’t know how to find it. When I have kids one day insha’Allah, if I fail to teach them anything else, I hope I’ll be able to teach them these two things: I’ll teach them about their light that resides within them. And I’ll teach them that if they share that light of theirs with others around them, it’s the best they can do. Even if the layers of grime and filth on a person’s surface is so thick that it only lets a small pinpoint of light, in the darkest of areas, that too can be illuminating. Remember that, and find your light my friend. If you lose your way, then I’ll share mine with you.”

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Photograph of streetlamp in the sunset, taken from personal photography [link].

Silence. It can be very loud at times, almost suffocating. Sometimes that same quiet that is just so peaceful and serene grabs you by throat and squeezes the breath out of you. And claws at your skin and silently seeps right through you, twisting its way beneath the surface. Then you're running around looking for the damn remote. It leaves an emptiness in the stomach, as if you're floating in nothingness. You know it is hurting but the numbness stops you feeling anything. And you wonder if this is really it. That you're meant to float. "Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee," said Muhammad Ali. A loved one asks what your plans are. "To float," you hear yourself say. They look at you crazy. "That's bullshit, you're no floater!". But the world sometimes pushes you as if you are no more than a feather, weightless and without direction. You float where it takes you whether you like it or not.

This is an unedited text conversation I had with Rosaline at midnight. <3

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Title: Firework – Katy Perry