The Eccedentesiast

"With our baby bear" - the repeating memory of this post on his Facebook timeline was a hard blow for me. It's there, already slapping on my face, the heartbreaking, maddening truth. I tried hard to steer clear of him, by any means. I don't know what urged me to have a glimpse of his Facebook profile. Well, yeah, I missed him, so badly that I felt like I was going to become a madman. That's it. But then, no matter how I put my guard up against his haunting memory, I gave in. I wanted to know, too, if he's getting well. He was sick and I was too worried that I almost wanted to text him and ask him if he's alright. I felt like I was going to explode. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to ask. So I peered in to his account. And that was the most dreadful momentum in my life. "With our baby bear". Reading each word was a deep stab in my heart. I haven't seen the photos, though, but I know I've seen enough. It took seconds...

Looking at the sea, with a clear blue sky, drifted by the cool breeze, hearing the birds chirping, wind blowing, leaves rustling - it's just so calming and peaceful. Being alone is a blessing. Maybe some people would find it weird and eerie but I love the effect it has on me. I missed this. This must be the beginning of a much more matured perspective. I better do writing rather than talking because I'm not good at it. I should practice to put into writing whatever comes into my mind before I blurt it out and hurt others again. You know, I sometimes thought of life as an unfair struggle in this universe. People just say whatever they wanted to say not knowing that their words had struck me then just let it pass and forget. But then, when I will be the one to throw some sarcastic remarks, they'd just walk out as if I've made the most heinous crime in this sinful world. Yet, realization hits me that it just proved that people are different in two ways: on how to throw...