As I swirled my fins in circular motions, redirecting myself deeper into the sea, I examined a coral reef with little Nemos (clown fishes). The bright orange neon coral reef danced to the current's rythm, spurting threads of seeds every five seconds or so. The clown fish that occupied the coral shot itself to my google and curtsied. Curtsied? To little Nemo, it is trying to imply competence by displaying its deep orange pattern. But to me, the little Nemo is doing something cute. Barracuda stays still to aim. Greyback cuttlefish stares at surfers to catch a scent.
How we are estranged of of our own presence. How peculiar we looked. How we hate to admit our facade. How we imply the unintended impressions through abstraction. How first impressions are wrong. Frankly, to me, silence is granting myself the freedom of judgement, giving me the benefit of doubt, waiting until the pieces of a puzzle draw themselves to their original position. To observe. To contemplate. And to finally express in finality.
But some perceive my newfound state of solace as a refusal to 'join in'. To be a part of anything or in denial of my state and surrounding condition. But in the lenses that are held in the skull that is covering this brain, I have simply found a better way to absorb life as it is. We humans do not amplify thoughts by only talking, we do so in our body language, our released aura, the temperature of our body, the changing hue of our skin, the moving pupils of our eyes.
And when this subject is in motion in an emotionally caged conversation, I was accused of not having dreams, of not having a proper ambition, of not making the initiatives to reach those ambitions. I can only answer "I know what I am doing.."
Many people searched for their talents for years and years and some just never had the oppurtunity to even lay a finger on their hidden passion. I'd found mine. And I'm pretty good at it. But I have can't plan my future on that foundation. I can design it. Little by little. Sikit-sikit. I may not have straight As. But what I have I have alot. Or so I think.
Should I endure or should I follow?
Should I tag along or should I wait for my turn?
You ask yourselves these questions as I will too.
We all will.
And in the end, we have to face the music. Will those who followed a distinguishable figure be abadoned in midflight? Will those whe searched continue searching? Will those who 'believe' stop 'believing'? Will those who reached their ambition be content of it?