Last 20‘s

Before the clock strikes midnight, let me take a twirl for the last time as a twenty eight year old wandering soul. Wandering between fantasy and reality. Holding onto hope whenever life gives tangerines. Crossing my fingers whenever something bad is about to happen. With never ending manifestations I am about to successfully complete the just twenty-ate existence on this earth.

The same time last year I remember being equally nervous and excited for another year. I thought I would be calmer this year because I am already a year older but this year and right now is more chaotic than last year. I wonder if things are just getting out of control as I age which should have been otherwise according to the universe‘s law. I am still looking out for answers to all the questions people ask me. 

As delighted as I may sound for my birthday, I am gradually losing the thrill because now I don‘t like to be reminded of my age nor of the checklists that should have been done by this age. It wasn‘t until I got into school that I learned that we have birthdays and it wasn‘t until my lower school that I also started having birthday parties. I yearned for such parties back then but now I would give up any crowds for a solo moment of peace. 

Why didn‘t anyone warn me that aging is so much more than just adding numbers? There is both anxiousness and excitement at the same time. I am anxious because I don‘t know if I am doing justice to another year granted and nervous if I can still make it through another year. Even if I did, will I still be surrounded by good people and will I still be able to spread love when the world is full of chaos and cruelty?

So, before the clock strikes midnight let me live my Cinderella dream for a while with the manifestation to last it forever. 

 

Denial

 

Silvery and shimmery,

Peeking through, 

When the sun shines through

No, it’s not a diamond.

Not a delightful sight,

Nor fishes compliments. 

Comes with sorrowful,

Tune of passing time. 

Scared to come out,

Obliged to anyways.

Web of emotions, 

Covering up the reality.

Born few months ago,

Here to stay, 

and turn the troop into one,

The land of grey and old.

In denial to accept the grey stand of hair, 

In denial to accept change and age, 

In denial to face reality, 

For I am living in a relativism. 

How do I not change even when the color of my hair is changing?