It seems all natural now - the late nights, early mornings, truck loads of coffee. I'm a fan of routines, and I know I've been on one for quite awhile now. I remember weeks ago I stood by my window and stared out into the night sky. In the distance there were flashes of lightning - periodic, intimidatingly flashy lightning. I merely stood there in awe, wondering if the strikes were indeed consistently apart. I started counting the number of seconds between each strike, and after awhile decided that I want to capture it on my phone. I tried to time the lightning but alas, there was no recurrent pattern. I felt slightly disappointed, but was still rooted there for a couple of minutes, thinking if it would last through the night. Part of me wanted those strikes to form a regular pattern, to bear a semblance of certainty.
The thing about me and certainty is the obsession of never having to feel lost or wandering; grip tight like a vice struggling to stay afloat and breathing. I've told myself numerous times to run wild and let go but I think innate barriers like these are the hardest to overcome. Perhaps the toughest thing to do is not the early mornings, the late nights, the solitude, the urge to stay awake, or anything else I thought was impossible. The toughest of all is to see through everything, to push away all the disturbances around, to not worry about anything else other than what I'm focusing on. At the end of the day when I look back, I want to say I emerged victorious, I survived, and I knew what I was doing. And when that day comes, would I still be overly concerned with all the trivial frivolities I thought were hindrances?
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