Bonfire Session 02: Middle Part

Bonfire Session 02.

I’ve never felt this cold before, like literally. It’s like a huge ice berg lurks inside my soul. At different times during the day, I lose my senses, and then a flash of vagueness consumes me followed by a swift regain of sanity. This middle part madness just purges every vein in me.

It’s Easter Sunday and I am at work.

Any time during the day, my boss would appear to check the outcome of my rookie assignments and the usual 50-50 chances of a shout or ‘no comment’ is at stake. Well, that would matter less at this point. Any form of assault could never cross my barrier at this state of anxiousness. Earlier, I received a message that my father is admitted to the hospital for some bacterial infections brought by his previous operation and probably exposure to stress. What could be more compelling than that on an Easter? Nothing (at this instance)!

Despite the circumstances, I still give an attempt to function today. I open my financial spreadsheet and check my figures. I close it after a few minutes. It’s still a whirlwind catastrophic scene as I expected. My last big-time flat move out costs me money I could have paid for two creditors but of course at this stage there’s nothing much I can do.

Thinking:

[With a career I don’t really know where it is heading to, an ongoing financial reformation, and challenges faced by the family, I must say this middle part is not as easy as I expected it to be.]

When I took a leap of faith to rehabilitate my dysfunctional life and to build the life I desire for myself and my family, I have pictured out the destination and how the ending would look like. I imagined myself with my family enjoying the beaches of my country and waking up in our home with the smell of sun-side up eggs, fresh bread, tomatoes, and brewed coffee. That end scene is so enticing that I shun and forgot the middle part—the chapter which will ultimately define the achievement of the last scene.

Oh, Middle Part!

How I wish I could just skip the middle part and blast my way to the destination, but of course such wishful thinking is absurd. I have read a number of times that ‘it is not the end but the journey which matters’. Did they mean the ‘middle part’? because right now that does not make any sense to me, even this journal is not making any sense at all. If I am meant to suffer the middle part for a great curtain call, then what’s that supposed to amount to?

I really don’t know. Maybe, this span is design for me to figure out what life is all about and how I would act upon it. This extended period has not only knocked me down but has showed me a complete reflection of myself. During these clouded moments of despair and uncertainty, I have remembered my strengths and at the same time recognized my weaknesses. I have seen my soul fight and fly under extreme adversities and realized I was not that stupid at all.

The middle part is not a place I want to stay but it is molding me to be the person deserving of a grand finale. This space has drawn me the opposite portrait of my dreams at the same time has tested my willpower and belief not to accept what’s on hand but to paint my own masterpiece.

Displaced Thoughts

Scars thicken my armor

Suffering took away my humor

Pain sharpened my sword

And I am left with no word

  

Bonfire Session 01: We Are Young

It‘s both a gift and a curse to have lived with diverse people at different places in a relative span of time. I’ve got to take away with me good memories of those spent moments, yet ripped off a huge part of me and left it there---galvanized in our history like ashes from an extinguished campfire.

SENSES (Unceremonial Interlude)

[The sound of beer cans as they are opened

Memories I don’t know when had happened;

Music of waves as they gush forth the shores

Cold sea breeze intimately pierces through my pores;

Distant laugh of a friend lightly mumbling

 Firewoods rumbling;

Strum of guitar string

It’s time to set aside my ring;

Suddenly, a spark was thrown to the dead wood

I see fire; it set the mood;

Flames consume us in retribution

For so long, they’ve escaped isolation;

It has been decreed to the universe, the bonfire session has begun]

01

Sober, I pass on a cold bottle of beer and ask, “If you got a chance to travel back, bump with your younger self, what would you say?”

Severus looks into my eyes.

“Sitting on the edge of a dark alley, I imagine my younger self crying. I’d walk tenderly closer; comfort him and leave him with an intangible security, ‘Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.’” Severus replied.

I’ve never seen Severus’s eyes burst in golden crimson flames as he tried to throw a future commitment to the past. His words resonate around the circle; hauntingly profound and genuine. In our midst, Severus briefly introduces this young boy--a petrified, fragile, and unsure soul; yet in a wink, the boy shrinks and merges in his being—strong, bold, and courageous.

Singing.

Laughing.

Puffs.

Silence.

We are half to the abyss of the night when Calen breaks the deafening silence: “Brace yourself my dear; the world is cruel out there. You can't be a weakling.” Her voice was as firm as the burning woods yet fractured by the vindictive fire. For a second, flashes of images remind me what she has gone through. ‘Cruel’ to illustrate our world is an understatement yet I no longer pity her. I know somewhere in her soul that the glory of happiness is her destiny and the past or today’s slavery from pain and misery would no longer matter.

Calen turns her attention to the Dark Knight who bears this blank look which suddenly transforms into a face she once knew. Dark Knight holds Calen hand and through the tunnel of humility pass his voice which says, "Learn well from your mistakes." I have known the Dark Knight for years and I know talking to his younger self that way takes tons of courage and humility. His younger self might not understand the gravity of the words but we, people around the circle, understand; especially Calen who seems liberated after hearing Dark Knight’s word.

From the outskirts, Katniss arrive.

Beer turns into hard liquor.

And the night continues to unravel.

After learning the fuss, Katniss push her fingers on her reading glasses to keep it in place (her signature mannerism), take one full shot of brandy, and fires:

Please listen from your future. I have come a long way and I want you to be better than me. So here are three important things you need to remember. First, be smarter with life decisions. Always know your priorities and never lose sight of them. You have tendencies of being lost. Hold on to what you think would make you feel contented in the long run. Second, be confident ‘coz you are beautiful the way God made you. Stop being insecure ‘coz that would only drag you down. You should find a way to pick yourself up and stand on firm grounds. Appreciate more and find the greater value of what you have.

Some grains of tears start pouring from Katniss eyes. We are cemented in the melancholic space Katniss created. She looks at Severus in a distinctively passionate fashion as she continues:

And third, be true to yourself. Hiding behind shadows would do no good to you. You should embrace yourself and accept your own truth. Only that could set you free.

Severus and Katniss are caught in a world they only knew and we bother not to dig deeper as Severus shuns the clouds, passing again the shot of brandy.

……undocumented…..

Alcohol starts to devour our sanity. Fumes from our cigarettes mix with the air and engulf us. Our vision turns vague. We are momentarily trapped in this slice of time cut by our subconscious longing to escape the borders of our brutal world. We stride forward laughing, cracking jokes, and drinking that venomous spell brought by the liquid spirits.

I am trying to survive one glass of hard liquor when the question boomerangs on me. What would I say? How can I contain a lengthy thought in an epigrammatic encounter with myself? I cannot even imagine facing the younger me; the thought that I messed up the present and warm him about it is terrifyingly shameful. I choke; “That was high!!”. Nevertheless, liquor passes through my esophagus unharmed, untamed.

4:24 a.m.

We run out of strength to crack another joke; mouths have dried out of saliva; and the taste and smell of another night sting like an evidence of a willful crime. Cigarette butts scatter around; some mix with the sand like our worries muddle up into our drunkenness.

Slowly, one by one, each walks away from the campfire to rest the dead beaten earthly bodies. Severus bid farewell with a tap on my back and pulls Katniss to his direction. The couple waves and leave carrying each other’s load.

I stay; watch the fire gradually fading;

Dying;

And, losing its existence.

At that very moment, I fall in love with the flame yet I’ve always known I have to put it off. The day is done. I throw the last water from my half-consumed mineral bottle and remember my unaddressed younger self. I hear the sound from the maltreated woods sizzles as the fire died down. I turn my back; and whisper,  “Keep the fire alive, young man”

Photo credits:drivethenation.com