As the winter snow steadily melts to make room for the chirps from birds and the warm breeze, the Boston atmosphere finally begins to become a more normal worldview in my mind. Yet ironically, I'm on the bus to NYC to visit a friend. The sun rays wash over the clear, blue sky, and I'm left with my thoughts as I feel the open doors in my life keep rushing through my perception too fast.
The more the days past, the more I crave for a moment's stillness - to be able to have these life opportunities halt for a bit. Responsibilities stack up, and aspirations to achieve more continue to make way in my head as I interact with exceeding amounts of new people. As time passes, the less time I have. As time passes, the heavier the burden of responsibilities weigh on me. As time passes, the less breaths I am able to take.
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'Happiness'
Are there any words more enticing than that? The idea of freedom from the reality that grounds me tugs at my heartstrings. I gorge myself on that sweet loftiness to wash down the taste of regret that burdens my shoulders. When someone tells me about their achievement, I rarely feel any congratulations nor motivation. I simply feel pressure for what next steps I must do and the tiredness of what's to come. Almost as if I'm chasing after something I’ll never catch; looking for something that may have always been here, but blind to that fact.
A wave of fresh summer winds blew into my face briefly in my empty office room at Formlabs as I reminisced on the concept of goals I aspired to achieve someday in the past middle school days. Was it the fact that back then, there was less I cared about? Or that the walls growing wider every day was a sign of thrill and adventure? Nostalgia and childish idealism seeped into my skin and left as quickly as it came the moment I blinked - the possibilities are still yet to be less enticing than my reality, it seems. Regardless, the younger version of me would have never guessed I'd be who I am today or I'd be doing the things that I am now - for better or worse.
With the sun setting in the horizon, the hues of orange that paint the bus begin to dissipate and bleed into the shadows that the forestry casts. Where even am I right now? The outskirts of Southbridge - essentially Connecticut. There are only trees in my line of sight, with their leaves gradually decorating the sides of roads with green. This may have been a vomit of words that add up to be my current stream of consciousness, but even if I'm not ready for the day, it can't always be night.
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