Another Walk

Long have us not met. It all began with the story of the lone wander – who strolled upon the far, bewildered lands. Rumors have spread that he has been entrapped yet imprisoned within his mental jail – or shall I refer to it as the physical one. Concrete walls and steeled bars, encompassing the perspective of the man, have well obstructed his thirsted visions. And the rumors have said that the thinker has confessed over the course of his recent suffering. Have the words of blaming darkened the firmament; have the sayings of misgiving thwarted his destination. Pointlessly wandering, has he been. My friend, will you be compassionate toward the wretched walker on the wild lands, for he is you, for he is me.

Indeed. Has it been the wartimes of segregation and alienation; has it been the shaded era of deprivation of empathy and compassion. Neither the broader goods nor his own interest would torture the miserable one’s soulless heart. It becomes a month of isolation with the farther lands, a month of non-fulfillment of great aspirations. Though we promised the great scenes of meditation, none has been conducted. Pathetic.

Pathetic, indeed, yet ironic. Have you once been moaning the slowness of time; ignorant, have you become, ignorant of the elapsed ones. Partially has it been your arrogance that led to tragedy of the present day. Yet for this invaluable once have you set out for your journey; unexpected, yet to be pleasant. As such, tell me, where have you planned to reach? For what state have you been striving?

As aforementioned, the fulfillment of my mind. It wasn’t until the recent depression that I have become valuing the stories told. More will I understand them at the wretched state of mine. It has been said that the physical prison will soon dissolve within a day; enlightenment, have I perceived, yet disorientation. Notwithstanding the detached consciousness and the broken plan, I have once again been reluctant to the changes of time. Opportunities have lain afar, but the paths are yet to be created.

So am I drawing across the lands and the oceans. For more than once have I formed a weak relation to the physical world that surrounds; Consciousness has stood in priority, yet fueled by the sights of reality. Will it suffice to address the intention of this journey: more of an orientation, a prophecy, it should be.

I understand. As the confusions dissolved, shall we be visioning the constructions of mind. Indeed has the time elapsed; more of a summer it has become – heat, winds, clouds, and the blazing sun. Wild land barely welcomed by the pedestrians nor the hurrying transports – everything seemed to be submerged in mere silence. Yet could I hear the winds whispering, the foot stepping. The dazzling orb has roasted every acre of the land – the road, the streets, as if shapelessly burning, voicelessly chattering. More to say purified; nothing has left but the wideness of the field, floating clouds, and the lone man. Nor is it devoid of any touches – the lethargic air has not, for any moment, been allowed to rest upon. What a scene of the wild plains.

It well reminds me of somewhere… somewhere I have been, somewhere I once resided. Their cultures, lifestyles – everything has drawn me far back. That I have well comprehended the life, yet the mindset, the consciousness upon. All has it been the pursuit of mind states, where I continuously searched for the ultimate tranquility. Attracting.

For the very once has the bygone flashed in my mind. Nostalgic has it become, yet apprehensive. Years of recession have tortured my innocent soul, corrupted, stained. Must has it been the where the beloved one resides; once I achieve the great mind, will I be joining him – the aspiration that has fueled my decayed body for years.

My apologies for interruption. What lies ahead are the two choices of your path. The one accompanied by countless trees and shades, extending to the far beyond. Will it be a dreary journey, for the repetitive scenes that outmatch your pace; yet a mindful experience, as will you calm down to contemplate over your own.

The other of abandoned buildings and endless sky, as if sparsity has occupied its essence; barely are the obstacles standing. Will it be an agony, for the boiling heat of the sun that knocks you senseless; yet a novel exploration, with the great variance upon your expedition.

The latter, with no hesitance. Leave the former broad road to the swift cycler, who should be enlightened by the vast changing of sights. As for the open fields, leave it for the walker to take his glance upon. We shall depart.

Indeed. The unbeknownst void that stretches afar; shall you be filling it with the vision of your mind. Rise up, my friend the wiseman; it is time to rouse your latent wisdom. Firmaments have taught you; lights have led you; will you be decorated by your knowledge, and use it to lead us forward.

The word is ‘the sea.’ Unexpected.

Has the sea emerged from the wild plains, slicing the landscape into two distinct views. Yet of no divergence it emerged; that the peacefulness has been kept intact as before. A masterpiece of combination. Seagulls gliding, waves rumbling, as if lifted by the heavenly sea airs, breaking through the earthbound atmosphere. Indeed has it been the sea – cleared sky with bare clouds, the constant field with mere imagination. I see the ocean.

As if you were speaking he same words two years ago, it well evokes my nostalgic emotions, those that dives deep into subconsciousness. It was for every moment when I searched up the connection with the past that I become apprehensive toward the life and time; yet for once again have I been wondering over myself.

Indeed. The two years before; the time before the destruction, time before the dream, time of innocence. Have I remembered that you have created the same vision back then, walking along the same path. For yet again, have you been the innocent taleteller who tells tales. Path have you taken – the path toward lights and aspirations.

Leave off the digression. Have you just mentioned that the journey shall serve its purpose of orientation; must have you reached a conclusion for the walk. Yet the traces have not grown clear; yet the mists stay still. Will you, the finder of paths, shed light upon your resolution.

Patience, my friend. The resolution has to follow the upheaval of my mind – that has yet to be arrived. Will I take a different road from my long-gone past; let the novelty be filling my way. And it leads to a train station – surely an old one.

Indeed. Has it been a victim of the imprisonment, abandoned, unwatched. Days have worn its appearance; months have weathered its shape. Barely could I tell the orientation; shall we lead a closer observation.

Truly has it been abandoned, with the supervisors hardly seen. Will I, then, be permitted to step in.

Yet no more than a few bicycles could be seen, along with the extended buildings that surrounds the sight. No more than three stories they bear, yet long enough to be noticed. Rusted slopes and eroded ladders; steps have not been made – until now.

Dream seeker, I’ve felt your inconstancy of mind. Have the pieces of furniture resonated with your emotional mind, or has the mood evoked your particular feelings? Never have you been such apprehensive toward the minority of matters, yet have you, for another once, relieved yourself from the vast arrogance and anger.

Meditation has offered its therapy. As for the sentimentality… This station has appeared in my dreams for more than once. Familiar layouts and structures, the forsaken bicycles and shafts, as if I have once been the resident of its; that it recalls much of the forgotten memories, of which I visioned and dreamed. It somehow led to the aspired life – as seen on the scripts etched on the wall.

For sure, that the shard of my soul has resided within for long; I lived here once.

So as the many pasts that recurred; I lived in them, too.

For many times have the mindful journeys taken place, yet they all began with the two wisemen talking. Is the conversation recorded throughout, and the journey progresses, as if it comes across the far-stretched lands. Yet it ultimately climbs upon the steepest cliffs, the farthest mountains – and the traveler reaches a new height of his mind and his consciousness, drawing near toward his aspiration.

And yet it has to come to an end…

Indeed… The journey goes upon its finale at the revelation of the far past… Perhaps it’s the best ending I could ever imagine…