My friend ask me if i’ll be joining a halloween party. She says “I’ll be little red riding hood, what’s your costume?”
Scary thoughts suddenly creep. Do i really need to wear a costume? Am i not wearing this halloween mask all these years?
– Those moments i smile when deep inside i’m crying
– Those times i pretend i’m brave enough when my soul is scared
So numerous moments when i pretend to be someone i’m not. And no one notices because everyone is wearing their own masks.
And when the masquerade ball is inviting me to join and dance in its party, i welcome it unwittingly. And after leaving the masquerade ball, i’m no longer cautious if the mask will fall.
No matter how much one hold on to something, soon the mask will be falling. And sometimes when you look at the mirror, you don’t see the mask. You see what’s inside you. But still you question in horror why a different face welcomes you every morning when you knew all along you’re alone after the party.
Still you dust if off and learn to move on. Looking forward to the next masquerade ball.
Since it’s almost halloween in some parts of the globe and almost all soul’s day in my country the Philippines, i’m giving my readers an option to show their kind soul by clicking / tapping the photos of my halloween posts, reading the musing/poetry of the corresponding image.
Although i hate sounding like i’m campaigning and surely i’m not pandering to your taste, rest assured that reading them can give you a smile and if these posts didn’t make you smile, let me know through your comments, so we can make halloween great again. 🙂
Dropping by at an art exhibit , i happened to see a cartoon artist. For a few dollars he’ll create your cartoon portrait.
Suddenly confusion, illusion or simply wild imagination made me think. If i will spend a few dollars, why would i need a sketch of my face? I have tons of photos on my facebook anyway. Besides, i can always look at the mirror and create a better portrait of myself, anytime for free , although sometimes looking at the mirror doesn’t lead to happy endings. 🙂
So i rather spend that moment fulfilling a life long childhood dream……. to be one of those fairy tale divas.
Once again in my adult life i’m faced with a million dollar question:
If i could be a fairy tale character, who would i be?
Cinderella? Nope, i had a very happy childhood.
Sleeping Beauty? Hmm, true love kiss and a prince, almost , but my dad is not a wicked king. .
Okay, let’s try Snow White, but i don’t have a wicked stepmother.
Aha, since i consider myself beautiful, why not Belle in Beauty and The Beast?
Staring at the blank moving wall, now called wallpaper, memories keep flashing like a movie scene. I’m still in a state of confusion as to what usually follows after finishing the sentence not with a period but with a colon that never belong to a conjunction of a subliminal past and paradoxical present.
i truly cannot understand why a tinge of justification was needed for that fleeting moment of indecision or bad judgment. Nope, it is not to be judged, i know in due time i will understand the truth.
The truth in not knowing the value of the moment until it became a memory. That obsequious feeling of driving a wheel , disregarding the traffic rules inspite of knowing that dangers will be waiting for breaking the stone that rocks the cradle.
The cradle that was all taken care of from infancy to puberty. The adolescence of the mind brainwashing humans that ignorance is a bliss, until adulthood teaches you that it’s only a bliss if you take the risk.
The paradox of following your bliss believing that you can strive for anything. Anything is possible, even screaming sky is the limit. You can have anything but not everything. An oxymoron parable that sounds better than the aesop’s fable.
The fable that shows human frailties using the art of narrating the pros and cons of an action with its lessons. Realization of the long forgone wishes. Pushing boundaries and eventually stepping over them. The pursuit to fill your bucket list with the unending whispers that the story is not over yet but too late to edit the page.
Yes, the book was already printed, but the story is not over yet.