Unknown horizon.

Photograph is blogger's own. Taken at Coron, Palawan.

It is four in the morning, yet there is still no trace that the sun will shine. The entire metropolis is still covered in darkness sans for few lights that dimly flicker. Few automobiles, seemingly sluggish, are attempting to break the monotonous cycle of existence. At this ungodly hour, nobody doubts the erstwhile toast to insanity. It is probably best to remember, when memories are fresh and recollections are unmistakable. But he can’t. He is forbidden to remember.  

His breathing is heavy, probably due to the harshness of the day’s events. Rest has proven to be elusive for the past few days, but that doesn’t mean he will not try. Sleep is the only time when the world halts, and the madness stops albeit temporarily. The future is as unique and improbable as a white elephant or a flying unicorn.

The wind that hymns silent forgotten melodies make him cry, out of nostalgia or longing. There are days when sadness is overwhelming, and the only refuge left comes from forlorn demons. But those days are far from happening. Eyes suddenly awake, transfixed on the movement of a clock that sways without rhythm. It moves like a ballerina on an empty stage devoid of grace, yet replete with meaning. Silently, it kills him with thoughts and dreams that perpetually haunt him today, tomorrow, and probably the day after.

In the stretch of emptiness, he closes his eyes. He recalls half forgotten truths that make him uncomfortable. He feels that the world cradles him into a new height where nothing is forgotten and everything has a purpose. In the quiet corner of his space, he hears sounds forming into coherent words. The words echo, calling him over and over, until the moment when he is drowned with clarity.

He smiles for he now remembers.