Bamboo bridge on fire
Some days I can’t articulate my thoughts. Call it “writer’s block” or whatever that feeling of feeling stuck is. I’ve started writing some lines approximately six times this week — four of them from today alone — and I just can’t find the connectors, the transitions, the right prepositions… I’ve lost my train of thought multiple times and I’m done trying to find it.
But I still wanted to write. A month seems like an eternity when you rely on your words for stress relief. I’ve been too busy trying to escape hell while trying to eat and sleep right at the same time. Alas, I haven’t had much success with either.
Life is full of disappointments. And no matter how many times I remind myself of that, it never ceases to shock me how short some people will fall; how soon another tragedy will strike; and when you finally see the light, how quickly it can turn to dark.
The things that I think would complete me are so simple. (Keyword: think.) I don’t ask for much in life. But for some reason, I find myself on the other side of the right path all the time, after I’ve walked so far. It’s as if I’m walking on a bamboo bridge that is set aflame before I cross the last row. I remain an optimist, but it’s hard to ignore the fire burning before your eyes.
And it’s absurd and kind of a funny thing how, in the immensity that is our universe, we, the miniscule particles that we are, must struggle with relatively smaller parts of our lives. Humankind is fully responsible for our own burdens — the political system, rules, policies, currencies, borders, and the whole mess they’ve created (just because) — and I just wish it didn’t have to be that way.
I believe I’ve written about this in some other post. And I’m not sure it is what I wanted to say today or if I simply derailed, but it is written here now, so hear me out.
