Two or three days ago, Maestro Bacarra had posed a question that pretty much goes along these lines: "How would you spend the last remaining days of your life?" I never really took that question seriously 'coz my days of adolescent angsting, gothic witching and aloof depression were long past. It did, however, strike me as disturbing that I no definite answer instantly popped into my mind. For a person who spends most of his daydream-time conjuring worst-case scenarios, I came up clueless with what I actually wanted to do.
True, I could easily imagine how I'd react if I were assaulted in a public transport, attempted to be kidnapped or caught in the crossfire between good and evil in the legendary battlefield but I had no idea on what I'd do when faced with the assailant known only as the Grim Reaper. It was unsettling to realize that, though I have changed from a dark brooding person, I have also lost a few precious parts of my character.
Yesterday, my mother had fallen into one of her rare nostalgic moments once more. She had been filling us in on the twists and turns of my dad's courtship and, while most of the time, I find the contents of my stomach churning at the mere cheesiness of it all, there were also times I had to giggle like a high school girl, titillating at the mere cheesiness of it all. Then came the question that strikes fear and unrest into the heart of every closet gay student: "Do you have a girlfriend at school?"
I did manage to successfully evade the question, just saying that there were a few persons that caught my eye but none that have smitten my heart. Oh! If they only knew, but this pain, I am cursed to bear alone! Woe is me, pitiful is my life and pathetic is this digression of mine!
Just earlier this evening, I guess I had one too many sips of Sol de España, Sangria. I did acquire a sweet disposition during dinner; for some reason I cannot completely fathom, leftovers seemed to taste quite good. Three hours later, I found myself tossing and turning about my bed in a fitful sleep. Sleep is not even an accurate word to describe it for I have been hovering to and fro between states of dream and consciousness. Random thoughts popped into my head, sometimes more than once. A single voice, however, overwhelmed the rest by the immensity of its message: "What are you going to do with your life?"
There, in my slightly inebriated haze, I had the answers, but it was a grim revelation.
Life had never seemed so short when the time left is compared with the sum of the time it will take one to do all that one wants to do. It seems that one lifetime is never enough and, if that were not bad already, some people do not even get to live up to as long as the average human lifespan. I could die tomorrow; you could die tomorrow; he or she could die tomorrow. Heck, we all could even die now!
I wanted to be happy; everyone does. However, not everyone knows what will make them happy. I have a few good ideas but even I am not sure if it will truly fetch me happiness in my life.
I wanted to learn to ride a bike; it has been very embarrassing for me to have reached this age without knowing the basics of riding a bicycle. I also wanted to learn how to skate or use the roller-blades. I wanted to drive a car I could call my own. I wanted to eat dishes from various cuisines and generally have fond memories of each dish.
I once wished for a boyfriend and my wish came true as though the Wishmaster himself, a Djinn, granted it. I did not wish for true love for I conceded that it might be the remotest dream that could ever fall into my hands. I did wish for a close approximation of true love, however; I wanted to have a boyfriend that could make me happy and whom I could also make happy. I wanted to dance with him, watch movies with him, laugh with him and generally share intimate moments together, sexual or otherwise.
I wished to be free of my inhibitions even just once. I seek the uncontrollable fog that drapes over an intoxicated man's eyes; I wanted to be drunk outside the confines of my own home; I wished to act as I please, without thought of the repercussions of my acts.
I wanted to have broadband Internet access so I could download all the Uchuu Keiji Shaider episodes I could watch. It has also been very embarassing for me not to remember anything about the sentai series of my time like Shaider, Maskman, Bioman and Masked Rider Black. I wanted to participate in the Neopian stock market and earn a million neopoints or more. I've always wanted to win something from a raffle or the lottery, be it five hundred bucks, an iPod or some other MP3 player, a silver ring, belts, beads or a lifetime supply of boys; I don't really care. I just wanted to be reassured that I am not entirely without luck.
There are a lot more dreams I have, but not all of them may be realized; I am aware of that. I am working towards fulfilling some of my dreams but I'm afraid time is just too short to reach them all. I wonder, though, the moment I die, will all my unfulfilled dreams be hiding between pages too?
We're here right above the dust
seeking human warmth from you.
Care to stoop down and reach for us
or shall we remain dreams never true?