I have pretended to go mad in order to tell you the things I need to. I call it art. Because art is the word we give to our feelings made public. And art doesn’t worry anyone.
Like it matter what the world pretend to know and what it really does. As children, we dreamt of cute toys, twinkling stars, pinky swears, and fairytale stories read by our parents before bedtime. Growing up, happiness and contentment did not come as easy. Life became complicated. Our dreams became more than what the heart would really want. We started choosing through our senses instead of through our feelings. We neglected our heart's desires for what seemed to hover the surface. We started failing ourselves the moment we let go of that child's dreams and started chasing after meteorites. The impossible became everything we wanted.
Since then we started to lose everything.
As we grow older and older, we start to question these desires and wants, and ask ourselves "why am I still missing something important even when I already got everything I thought I wanted?" We start to reflect. We start to disregard the worldly vanity we randomly collected while we were after the wrong things. We start to disown our past decisions and dissect each wrong we've done. We get lost... Then we go back to what our elders told us as a child.
"Go after your dreams." "Say sorry when you're wrong." "Be polite and respect others." "Do not lie." "Always smile." "Greet your neighbors." "Do not hurt animals." "Study hard." "Always keep your heart open." "Don't let go of the important things." "Live and love to the fullest." "Be spontaneous." "Be brave." "Pray."
Then we became that child again. Hungry for magic. A fairytale believer. Pure with mature lust of wonder and adventure. Full of hope and rekindled faith. Full of untainted love. Then we become a lot more than we could ever be. We become a second chance.
This is my tradition. This is for you.