There are times when you're struck by that sudden bolt of inspiration which sets your fingers alight, starting to write at a maniac tempo, your fingers ricocheting off the keys in the frantic dash to write out every word, record down every thought.
These times come as fast as they go - fleeting, fast.
I'm sure you know the other part of the story, and I'm even more certain that we have been entrenched in those moments - those where the mind is left barren, high and dry. When inspiration evades us like mice fleeing cats. When our hands press a key, another, then backspace till a blank white sheet is left. When no words come to mind and you tread to the kitchen for a snack.
I don't know why it's there, or rather, the lack of its presence. I don't know why, just as I am ignorant of how the sky was assembled or the sea woven. I only know that it's there. I wish it wasn't.
There are many things I wish for. I wish I could say that my life was a movie or a fairy tale, but I can't. It's far from being picture-perfect, really. Instead, it's more of a jumble of pictures in an old reel, some good, others not so. Some events, or most, are inexplicable, like the sudden strong conviction that a certain topic would appear in a test. Wishing doesn't get you far. Thinking does.
Sometimes, I overthink. I think so much that I'm lost in a labyrinth of my own thoughts, ending up more confused than where I started off. Sometimes, it's better to not think, to go with the flow, to follow your heart instead of your head.
When I'm not thinking, I'm rushing. Rush, hurry, bustle. I'm compelled by this urge to be in a constant haste, snapping at the constraints of time. I wish that it wasn't so, that I could slow down, take a short stroll, inhale some fresh air, meditate a little. Reflect. Renew. Reinvigorate. Repeat.
At times, I feel that time is an unkind thing. Cruel, even. It goes too fast, too swift for one to stop to smell the roses, and maybe clip a pretty stalk for a loved one. I want to live the slow life, to be able to bask in inertia, with a good book to immerse myself in.
But time wages a war - it ravages away the sprightliness of youth, the freshness of spirit and clarity of mind, replacing them with wrinkles and weariness that is so apparent in most adults. I want to be carefree, to have all the time in the world to do what I like to do, see what I want to see, travel the world, roll in a bed of actual grass, watch the clouds whilst doing nothing. Unfortunately, I can't.
When there's too many things on the list (it's a very, very long list), the items appear to be less of a privilege and more of a burden. Hooray, I've travelled to China and scaled the Great Wall. Check. Next, I'm hurrying off for my next flight to Nepal. Quick, the plane arrives in an hour and we're stuck in a jam. What should I do.
The passion that came earlier is gone; switched with bore and weariness, as if the hand is too tired to add that extra stroke atop a full stop that makes it an exclamation mark. Now, it is more of a chore, no longer an adventure, an escapade. The excitement - gone. The peace - disrupted.
But aging holds a special something - the key to wisdom. It's truly a pity that not everyone attains it. They bustle too much, forgetting to seek that tiny treasure which appears to only the deserving. I may be fourteen, but I've seen grown-ups wasting away, see them fading, lost in vice.
There are those who are whisked away into the depths of addiction, desire, greed. Then, there are those who choose to grit their teeth, stand straight and strong, face the challenges head-on (or maybe, running round the hurdle). I want to be one of them. I wish to sit among their ranks, the brave, the humble, the wise.
Hopefully, with wisdom comes the brakes to slow things down. I've gotten glimpses of them, sneak peeks which I hunger to see more of. I'm glad to say that found them in photography, in stopping for a split second, pressing the button, hearing the shutter click, and later, discovering that precious moment preserved in pixels. (alliteration, always)
Late last year was the first time I picked up a proper camera for the first time. It was magic, true, pure wizardry, I tell you. It was the thrill of hearing the camera click, and later, joy when I saw the photos being saved into my card. I now wonder, occasionally, why didn't I do so earlier? But I know I'm fortunate. Fourteen isn't young, but not too old either. Photography has gotten me far, indeed. I've met new people, visited new places, and most importantly, learnt much from the many experiences I've had.
I've improved much too, from blur, oversaturated, over-filtered images with bad lighting that I now wince at to marginally better photographs I use a camera for.
With this, I'd like to thank you, (yes, every single one of you) who has stuck with me through this entire story, and perhaps this blog. My life isn't ideal, but it's one that's filled with rich experiences, many of which I've benefitted from. So remember this, when the road gets rough, keep holding on.
I've been desperately in need of something to soothe frazzled nerves and turn that frown upside down - hence chamomile, a cure for insomnia, and something I've been downing mugs of like booze to an alcoholic. But no, chamomile by itself would be a lonely mix, so in goes the peach, a straggler of summer. Still, it isn't enough, for I have passionfruits in the fridge to use, so in that goes too.
After a night in the fridge, the result is fabulous, magnificent even. Something light, sweet, fragrant, soothingly silky. It's up to you if you would like to layer it, or eat it like it is, as a mish-mash of goodness. Either is good, just remember my words, and slow down for the road ahead.
Passionfruit & Peach & Chamomile Cream Overnight Oatmeal
1/2 c oats
Pinch of salt
1/4 c yogurt (soy/coconut for vegans)
1/3 c boiling hot water
1 chamomile teabag
1 tbsp. maple syrup / sweetener
1/2 a peach
2 tbsp. milk or yogurt (optional)
1. Combine water and the chamomile teabag. Let it sit aside.
2. Combine oats and salt, before adding yogurt, passionfruit and maple syrup.
3. Add the water (sans teabag) and stir well.
4. Dice the peach, and place the pieces in a small container.
5. Store both in the fridge for at least 6 hours, or better, overnight.
6. In the morning, if you find the yogurt too thick or thin, add either the milk or yogurt, respectively.
7. Layer or just stir in the peach. Eat, and enjoy.