momentum

11.08.2007

I hate winter nights.

I don’t mind the coldness of winter. The snow. The ice. The dryness in the air. But I hate waking up to dark sky and leaving work to a dark sky. At least in the summer, when the sun still lingers till later in the day, you still think you have a chance of doing something before the night comes.

Now, I might as well just pack it in for the night the moment I leave the office.

I haven’t written in a while. For a while, I’ve been focusing my energy into my novel. And that energy has been dwindling as I ran into more roadblocks. With each bump, a little more momentum was sucked away, till things, as of now, have come to a standstill. I guess this is my way of making more momentum for myself for the time being.

The optometrist said I had bright eyes last weekend. I went in for my yearly eye exam to get my contacts. Being the sucker that I am, I signed up for the 25 dollar photograph of my eye that would reveal if I had anything wrong with my eyes or if I was showing any warning signs. A completely precautionary measure.

Anyways, when the doctor brought up pictures of my eyes, he kind of marveled at how bright my eyes were. Apparently we are born with very bright eyes, but as we age these bright spots dim. I may have butchered the explanation that he gave me, but anyways, he seemed very surprised at how bright my eyes were, given my age. I told him that that explained my very childlike perspective of the world.

*rim shot*

Last weekend was an eventful weekend for me. It was weird, I guess. I feel like a lot happened, yet all I did was work. The best part of my second job is just hanging out afterwards and talking to the other employees at the bar. Each person has a story to tell. Each person is such a distinct character.

Anyways I was talking to one of the bartenders at the bar. We were in a backroom. He was telling me how he was a financial consultant for the past eight years before he got into bartending. He just burned out and realized that what he was doing wasn’t what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. I remember just seeing him, cigarette in his hand blowing smoke up in the air. I remember the look in his eyes. It was the look that a person has when he doesn’t regret the choices that he made in his life. It was the look of someone that has made peace with himself and what he was doing.

For some reason, his look reassured me that my struggle was all for naught and that the choice that I so hastily made was not one I should be regretting.

We are all lost children in the woods. We are all running around seemingly aimlessly. Some of us choose trails already blazed and some choose to make their own trails. Some are more rushed than others. And some don’t seem in any hurry at all, and they just enjoy the sights around them. You can look ahead and see people in the far distance. They seem to know where they’re going. You catch up to them and realize that they are just as clueless as you, but they choose to keep moving despite that.

I don’t know what my trail is yet. I don’t know if it will lead me out of the woods. I don’t know what is outside the woods in fact. All I know is if I am ever going to get there, I have to keep on moving. That is my momentum that carries me through these long winter nights.