I am looking at the mirage in front of me. It is more like water, with a soft, predictable movement. It is beautiful but at the same time it giving me sore eyes. I closed my eyes and felt half crying. No no, not because I am sad nor mad but simply because of the mirage.
I remember when I was younger, in my 10, I asked my dad what does mirage mean in Malay. He said nothing, he doesn’t even know. Maybe he just feeling overcast that day. I climbed up the bookshelf and pick up my dad’s English dictionary; sky blue in colour and yellow thin – tissue-like paper. I look into the words and found out what actually is a mirage.
Mirage – Fatamorgana in Malay. But still Malay borrow it from Italian. Huh.
Actually, mirage is an optical illusion caused by atmospheric conditions, especially the appearance of a sheet of water in a desert or on a hot road caused by the refraction of light from the sky by heated air.
Yeah, thank you fucking Google.
No wonder it giving a bad experience to my eyes.
But here’s a statement: past haunted me. For the most part, it creates me as today. As the one that writing this shit down.
I was living my golden years, a few years ago. I do what I loved, I loved people that I wanted to love, I cared more than I should and I give out the best that I could to people. Not all people obviously; there’s about 7.8 fucking billion of people of course.
In my own defence, I do all of that. Yep, so egocentric bias of me. But for the most part, everyone does the same, everyone did the same, everyone is equal to one and another; yep, so democratic.
You know, my friend ask me few days ago about hope in certain things to certain people in my life. And I answered to him. I do come to a realization that my answer didn’t sum up the same as I would answer a few years ago.
In which my answer to him are : ”I kept to do the best. To the people that love me, to the one that I loved, to my friend, to the things I loved to do, to everything that comes to me.”
Here’s a big difference: ”…even though all of those things don’t belong to me until I died.”
While my possible answers few years and tears ago: ”…and I will make sure those things were mine.”
The past haunted me? I think that’s not what it is what happened to me really though. I am what I am, even minus 10 years and I do believe 18 years ahead. I still listen to my favourite song 9 years ago and still wearing the same type of clothing 5 years back.
Now I get it. It makes sense. The past really changed me to the core of my living, the way I stand onto things we called hope.
