PASSION.

it's all about that. the passion to make a difference--to be the change, or usher its arrival.

a shadow will remain what is always is--a cast of dark against the resonance of light. and though two or three or a hundred more may mix in the void of blackness, one is always a smigen different from the other.

i feel, please do not forget.

"the most difficult phase of life is not when no one understands you, it's when you don't understand yourself."

i am starting to believe i am jinxed.

well, that's not much of a surprise, really.

i am a kid.

i said to myself as if it were inherently everything i'm not. when did i get so forgetful? i was suddenly in such a hurry to grow up and grow out of the magnificent innocence that possesed children to see what adults have been blind to--a small pool of water rather than a puddle of mud and dirt, a blessing of food rather than calories that would lead to flab and additional hours to the gym. an endless cycle of a boring routine that lacked what was somehow necessary--fun. weren't there days and nights i have laughed (immaturely but) triumphantly because i broke the rules and had a good time with my friends? weren't there moments that i would have given anything to experience them again not because of regret of the things i failed to do but because it was just so great and perfect?

i am a kid, i assured myself, as i tried to count as much cars and trucks at one in the morning, on a roadtrip to somewhere-else-where-we-could-all-study-better. i guess we drove for miles, i didn't know. and i didn't care that i got home at four-thirty. or that i slept in less than three hours time and went to class despite my wanting to sleep some more. or that i had an exam after that.

because at that time, i was happy. i was happy being a kid.

and this is where i sit waiting, tapping my fingers on the hard plastic table and pressing the keys madly, hoping the words would come out right and disassemble the thoughts in my head. in another routine of a day that consisted of hourly meetings, classes that never gave much knowledge, and breaks of food that tasted of too much oil and artificiality, i steal all the time i could into thinking what really mattered and what has kept me going despite the mundanity of it all.

when all that i have kept my transparent eyes on are the monochromes on the vibrant canvas of life, making silly excuses as to why the world is doomed to drown in discontent and why i draw a missile on the top of my head, it doesn't surprise me as much as to why i have been finding myself locked up inside a cell of a dorm, refusing to go out and deal.

and so this is when i have decided i should start to learn, not just from the shortcomings that people make, but the virtues that give them the strength to redeem themselves off of these mistakes. to give credit where it is due and accept that some things remain lost in the streams of the past, while others are piled away in the future, and there are those that we gain only now, as the seconds tick off into minutes and the minutes into hours.

because this is where i am now. where i'm supposed to be on mondays, pressing keys one after the other, hoping that the words came out right, as well as the program i am supposed to be making.

it started, like everything else, and just as it did, it ended. and the people who didn't as much cast their eyes away were standing up, dusting the bits and pieces of popcorn from their sleeves slowly making way to the exit.

just like everyone else.

with the white rolling credits against black screen and thundering rock music, i managed to get up from my seat and look over my shoulder to see that i am in the company of people whose lives i quite do not know and don't know me back. nevertheless, in the light of this little truth, as i admired the way the yellow light drops itself so warmly on everyone, i realize that it did not change the fact that i am still welcome.

like everyone is, at the foot of the door of other people's lives.