PC: Pinterest, Pedro Correa
There’s so many things to do, so much to make sense of.
Thoughts run in the back of my head of all the pursuits I wish to dive headfirst into.
Alas, one can only do so much at a given time, and oh time, no time is ever enough.
Time slips through my slimy limbs, washing along with it all the things I wish to do.
I begin a new pursuit, and another calls to me.
I realise there’s no end to one pursuit, for there’s always something new,
a new element, a new link, a new idea to add onto the old.
Since there’s no end, I go on to seek new beginnings;
something new to learn,
something old to unlearn and relearn,
and sometimes I’m crushed under the
weight of it all, always looking for the next thing and the next,
but I could not go on without them,
they give me purpose and I give them life.
Some say take it slow, one after the other,
But time, oh time waits for none
soon twenty would turn to twenty one,
years passing like bullet trains on a newly furbished platform;
alas! they wait not a minute past their allotted time.
What’s to be done now must be done
yet my search for one thing leads to another
and soon, multiple interests pile up.
I start fulfilling them from the very bottom,
but that’s the thing about the bottom layer of a pile:
you take it apart and others come crumbling down.
I start to work on something
and another important thing calls to me,
I start to read a book, and a poem plays in the back of my head,
I begin to write an article and thoughts of something “far more important” bombard me
I decide to study my coursework and coffee cravings set in,
I jump out of bed to go skate outside, but remember that one thing I'm supposed to do
I pile up unread messages on social media because texting drains me out,
and then, when I should be doing all the things I love to do, I sit down to reply.
I start to clean my wardrobe and goes onto play the piano midway.
Then I keep it all aside and proceed to meditate;
now I revel in the joy of doing nothing.
I’m easily bored of the mundane,
I love adventure and spontaneity
I love the ocean
I love climbing trees,
I love coffee, music, art and literature
I love the outdoors,
nature and sports and games
and dripping with perspiration,
I love being in the now,
simply observing, simply existing,
multiple pursuits energise me, and
novelty gets me excited,
I have a list of over a hundred things I wish to do,
numbers increasing exponentially,
passions blending and flowing like a sea of colours,
Oh! I love colours I love black, blue, I love “LOVE”,
water and stars and soil and the moon,
I try to measure tasks by the intensity of my desire to do them;
I realise the scales are always similar and I’d want to do it all at once.
Alas! I proceed to do them one by one owing to quantum constraints of the universe
and the untapped potential of the human mind.
I so love doing nothing,
I so love doing everything.
I wish to live deliberately, to make the most out of this thing called life,
to make a difference, to leave my mark,
yet sometimes I ask myself-
What is the point of everything? Of anything?
The mind ponders and answers-
To have been joyful in life is the point.
To have shared love is the point.
To have spread goodness is the point.
Tis nothing else.
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