. Worth More Than A Sparrow .

Sunday, 26 August 2007

♥ i love my cg (:

i love my cg. =D BOTH of them.

so very very much!!! <3 <3

(i know i sound so gay right now. haha.)

(:

{/4:42 pm}

<3, me

♥ The Letter

Dear Daddy,

I peered through the icy glass and saw you lying under those sterile white lights. You were clad in white, of purity or emptiness I did not know. You were on drip; you were in dire need of the elixir of life.

Moments ago, I experienced a nightmare which I did not wake up from: you were rushed to the hospital after you complained about acute chest pains, your heart stopped beating in the ambulance, and then you were resuscitated before being transferred to the intensive care ward. Although I have been an agnostic all my life, I heard myself praying to God.

Through the icy glass, I saw what this trial has done to you – your hair was two shades grayer and your breathing was hard and heavy. But no, a single heart attack, venomous as it is, could not have done this; only a manifestation of time could. It was me who was oblivious to your constant ageing. It was me who saw no point in giving my ATM a second look. It was me who took you for granted. As time insidiously chipped you away, was I there to grasp the remnants of your wholesome character, of your legacy?

I am by far not the ideal son, but I know that I am and will always be that in your eyes. Daddy, I promise that I will now aspire to match reality with your version of truth. I am sorry to have always responded to your love and concern with insolence and rebellion. I should never have said “I wish I never had a dad” when you berated me after I came home half-drunk at dawn that time. It was only when I felt a sharp tingling sensation at the bridge of my nose and my vision blur at the sight of you on drips that I realized just how you felt that dawn, when you tried to use the façade of seething anger to hide your tears, your deep emotional hurt. People say that teenage rebellion is normal, but that does not and should not relieve me of any penitence. Don’t worry, though, dad. You know that I won’t sink in negative feelings; I will translate the regret into an impetus to push me up to the zenith of Mount Virtue. In fact, your close encounter with death has also opened my eyes to the many relationships and friendships that I had hitherto taken for granted; it has opened my eyes to the many intangibles – the ancient pleasantries of love, fraternity, optimism and hope – that are paradoxically so invaluable that they render us completely human. What is essential is invisible to the eye.

The brevity and unpredictability of life struck me, launching me into a quest into existence and spirituality. I have only taken a minute step into this quest, but I have indubitably evolved from the hedonist who takes agnosticism as a convenient religious inclination to the thinking agnostic. While I still don’t know if God exists or what my purpose (if any) for existence is, I figure that I can be either apologetic about the transient human condition, or happy with what it has bestowed upon us. I have chosen the latter.

It may now be a cold night with shrill winds as I write you this letter, but dawn is only hours away, and the heavens have littered the abyss of darkness with glittering guardian angels, and the warmth that burns from the glowing candle of love gives me strength. I am blessed.

Love,
George

{/1:00 am}

<3, me