Little Things. #wattys2017

s e p t e m

A U R O R A
                                                                                               " I can't wait to go home."~ Ed Sheeran, Castle on the hill.

         Yes. You guess it right. I did not die. I still have a long way down. Turns out they were two best friends coming on their bikes. Funny. How the world gives us these small tremors.

          I continued walking as I let my tired and salty eyes guide me to where I rested. The coast.

          The prickly twigs and leaves getting trapped in my feet make me feel uncomfortable. They interfere too much. Just like the thought floating in my mind. Sometimes I feel like I want to run away from all of this. This noise. And I did. Ran away from my beloved mother to seek happiness. I'm headed to city. The place filled with wonders. Big beautiful things. All that have stories to tell. So many stories.

           Picking up a stick about the size of my forearm, I start walking towards the cleaner side of the beach. The brown sand sticking to my wet feet. The cold breeze hits my numb nose making me sneeze. Small shells and tiny harmless crabs challenge me as I walk to my location.

           I watched the waves bring in the water to the shore. There was a spot that was deprived of the small little nuisances tickling my feet earlier. So I sat down and leaned back, my hands holding me steady. Planting my new stick in the sand, I drowned into my thoughts.

          The waves crash softly onto the others, keeping their tone quiet calm me down. The rustling of the crispy leaves of the trees not leaving things awkward. Distant children hunt for shells without small creatures in them, giggling amongst themselves. The air whistles with mischief as dusk enters with great grandeur. The whole beach was decorated as they celebrate the rising of dusk. The birds running back to their homes to watch the show. With me. And my new stick.

            Dusk hit the sky faster than I wanted it to. The sky was beautiful. The mellow colours of the sweet sky create a collage in front of my eyes. They colour my mind with emotions and thoughts that make me restless. These colours leave me in awe. They make me brood. They make me uncomfortable.

            The sky is now becoming a dark shade of purple. The sun kissed by dawn now blushes and calls it a day. Every cloud in the sky is lined with beautiful shades of nature. It's like God is the artist and the sky is his palette. Mixing all of the shades on the palette in order to get the right hue to complete the perfect picture. Just for me. My stick. And my surroundings.

           I watch as the colours continue to mingle with each other as they create new stories. New journeys. New emotions. They are changing, yet they remain static. Funny, isn't it?

           The man I saw earlier... yes...the one that shot himself. His eyes dilating pupils froze when the cold hard bullet went through his cloudy head. His lips became pale and flaky and his body became static. All his feelings, washed away with the entry of that metal substance. It felt like a dead end. Every last breath of his was dying down. Like as if everything he possessed was getting warped into some place. A dark place. A place I wouldn't like to be in.

         This moment reminds me of that man's end.

             I can see the end of the sky. I'm pretty sure that people call it a 'horizon'. And this fine line, lined with pink and lilac is shrinking. As the light dies down, this line shrinks. Every minute. Every second. This aurora is dying. The play of colours slowly fading. Getting replaced by that dark place. The one that slowly took everything away from that broken man.

             But this dark place destructs this limits to my vision. I can see nothing but the endless sky lit with the flickering starlight. The dark purple now being dominated by this dark force.

             The dark opens up my new story. The one where I dream. The dark gives me the vision of my fantasies, my happy, sad, angry moments to cherish. It helps me get drenched with my thoughts and views about life. It helps me enjoy the little things within myself.

                But the light shows me the way. It shows me the way to the big things. It shows me my happiness.

                 I turn around and take a deep breath as I watch the sand around my drier than before. The footprints slowly disappearing as the dry sand covers them. The sand slowly dusting off my dry feet. My stick floats in the water ready to start another venture. And probably share a story with another. And I smile to myself with the fuzzy feeling in me.

                This moment makes me realize that we need both, the dark as well as the light to fuel our lives. We need both the good and the bad to make our life meaningful. We need those sweet kisses of memories to make our life colourful. We need these timely ends to commence new beginnings. Even if this is done by that dark place. Because we can then dream. And guide these dreams with the light.

                Where is the light you ask?

               When I look down at my fading shadow, I know it's going to disappear. But tomorrow, it will be back. Ready to find the new little things in life. My partner in crime.

                And that's when I know that there will always be light.

                The light to guide me to my happiness.

               That light that will guide me home.

               And I can't wait to go home.

                                       
Drowning on the dry shore,
Wesley.

                                                
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Time: 11:45 pm (I think.)