Monday, September 8, 2008

i-Cyb, April 26, 2008


...Dear Lord!

...what can I ask you now? what's the point in asking anyway? everyone will get exactly what they get after all. me too. i will get exactly what i deserve, good and bad. so what's the point in asking, begging for something? if i deserve it i will get it, if not, then... i guess it is what it is right?
...but then again you created me 25 years ago. you created me the way i am and you gave me my destiny, my pack of opportunities throughout my life. you gave me my free will and you gave me my ability to wish. and i do...wish...
at the top of my heart i do...wish...
at the very tip of my soul i do...wish...
with all that i am i do...wish...

..it is what it is. i am what i am. i do what i do.

...it's been said, i m a big boy now, but i m still not grown.
guess it's right. i m 25 now father. quarter of a century it's been. feels like a bit more, but i can handle it, u know me. you are the artist that painted me as a picture, drew me as a sketch and let me finish it up. i am finishing it. i m drawing shades and specular now, i m not really good at drawing i must admit, but it still is what it is. i might not paint a good picture but i promise you i'll paint the one to be remembered.

it's so lonely in these streets. this town is so beautiful, so peaceful yet so lonely at night... just like me i guess. so calm here...


mess, confusion, conclusions, grief... they all are mixed now, a perfect mixture to... no, it's not the one i need father. i've been prescribed this mixture but i m not going to take it. i m gonna make my own mixture. they say it's impossible. fair enough. but still. i WILL make my own mixture:
love, happYness, home, firendship, LIFE, freedom, a little bit of confusion to make it spicy, a little bit of anger to lively it up and a little bit of pain to stir it up.

these words still rebel against me father, so i better stop writing them and give them a break. i am tired of screaming at the top of my lungs, i m tired of whispering with my heart, i m fed up with the treasury of silence. and i m eager to ACT.
it's always been that way i guess. it's been coming for a long time. the mixture is in the making. the only thing i am asking father is HELP me do it right.

...time to go home now. time to go HOME...

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