invincible

Lightsaber fights thinking we are winning real battles; jumping on trampolines thinking we are soaring the skies. There is an invincibility in innocence, in ignorant play and unconstrained bouts of fearlessness. Lobbing weak blows against friends donning Spiderman attire, laughing wildly with no reserve; no vile tinge of self-consciousness; no inkling of reality and the false mask of maturity. Afraid of Daddy’s reprimand but not of the tallest, most intricate roller-coasters in the world, how does that work?

I remember being a child, propelled upwards by a trampoline by perhaps a mere two to three meters yet feeling like the most courageous person in the world, priding myself on these brave little steps that rearranged themselves as cool achievements in my mind. When you’re young there are no expectations or standards, every thrust forward is a victory, superheroes in the making. We existed in our most natural states without thinking that society needed to teach us anything, without the ugly whispers that haunt us now, a multitude of faceless voices converging towards conformity. We were powerful in our own right, naive self-importance like a iridescent bubble not yet reduced to foam; look at the remnants of our self-esteem now.

The feeling of invincibility still comes sometimes; carefree nights drowning in the life of the city without a care in the world, sudden bursts of satisfaction and rising ecstasy after a movie strikes the right chord, … the difference is that it was second to nature to us then, and almost a stranger now.

I was ignorant of this elusive power when I was living it, and maybe that’s why it’s so precious now.

saturday morning

I’d like to believe that there will be more mornings like this. Heavens vacillating between cloudiness and rainfall, settling eventually for a overcast grey sky that appears sad but is not quite at all. Mornings soft and muted, quiet, the intrusive glare of sunlight never wrenching me out of this gentle respite. Mornings calm, at ease, as wonderful for running outside as staying in, good sweat, a dull, lovely drowsiness in my legs that have not hit the ground for a long time. Lazy breakfast, cornflakes and milk and two guilty cookies, house silent but still breathing with life. I know what loneliness feels like, and this isn’t it.

ice-cream on a rainy day

what is the rationale of ice-cream on a rainy day?

yet here I am, not all alone

we are all creatures of decision, coincidence, habit, or

impulse

and today I find myself in a place reminiscent of chatter and noise

comfortable in setting but displaced in emotion; the noise is ambient

solitary pursuit,

and I have no inkling of the weather outside

I guess that’s what vulnerability does: strips you down to your core. Petals peeled back, actors suddenly realising how exposed they are on the overwhelming stage, seeking the refuge of the drapes and shadows but their eyes would have followed my inevitable retreat.

the compromise of genuineness for quality: is that real?