One day I'll get to live somewhere with a beautiful view. I can imagine myself wasting my time there, just feasting my eyes on my surroundings. Be it a view of nature, or the city, it doesn't matter just as long as my eyes can see far enough. I'd just sit there, by myself, smoking a cigarette and listening to music and I know that I will be happy and content.
I'd wake up early to watch the sunrise or maybe go home early to catch the sunset. I'd stay out there late at night so I can gaze at the stars with no one to stop me from catching a chill. I'd familiarize myself with the constellations and the names of the stars. I will memorize them so that everywhere I go, as long as it isn't cloudy, I'd just look up at the night sky and greet my old friends so I wouldn't feel so lost.
High up there, it wouldn't be too hot even when the sun is out. I'd relish the wind as it blows through my hair and ruffle my clothes. I can see myself smiling, holding a balloon and letting the wind take it away. I'd look at the different cloud formations on a sunny day, or watch the incessant lightning on rainy days. Maybe I'd even go out sometimes when it's raining. It has been a very long while since I've done that. It will be very cold, I can imagine, and I will hug myself because I will be shaking. It will do no good I know, but I will be relishing that act because it is so symbolic.
Maybe I'll even sit on the railing sometimes just to feel giddy. And once I got used to that, I'd try lying down on it so I will be face-to-face with the blue sky. Then I'd raise my hands just because I wanted to. It would look silly, I know, but I don't care.
Yet despite that, I do not want to be able to experience all those just yet. Because I have this feeling that when I finally do get that place with the view, it will all be over. Whatever that "it" is, even I cannot fully understand.
***
A few days ago, I was riding on a jeepney on my way back to UP. I was sitting in front beside the driver and I wasn't really thinking about anything serious when this plastic bird caught my eye. It was hanging on a thread behind the windshield (where some drivers hang sampaguita flowers) and the driver probably found it amusing how the bird flaps its moveable wings as the jeepney bumps along. I do not know what mood I was in but I found myself on the verge of tears, just looking at that bird. There was just something in it I couldn't put a finger on at that time... Something which struck a nerve... They weren't tears of sadness. They were more of the tears that come when you have realized something really beautiful... About what I cannot fully comprehend.
***
I had another dream that I was flying around, this time in the old junior faculty room. It was more of a glide, actually, since I wasn't flapping my arms. I just sort of jump and then stiffen my legs as if in a sitting position, like I'm riding something, and with the will of my mind I'd move. I can make myself glide higher or lower, faster or slower. In my dream, my colleagues were there with me in the room, and I told them that I often dreamed of doing just that.
As I was gliding along the cubicles and showing off my skill to my colleagues, I kept thinking that it was the most natural thing... Like hovering a few inches off the floor was something I was born to do and that people around me acknowledge that.
And it is always like that. Every single gliding dream that I've ever had.
I do not understand that too.
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