The Hopping Bunny

So she hops. And hops. And hops.
She has fun. The new world is so fun!
It's exciting. She keeps discovering new wonders as she goes on.

There are these strange trees. Small and big creatures pass by. A river. Good berries everywhere.
And there is this dancing flame. Wow, she thinks. She is mesmerized by the radiance. And before she knows it, the flame has become her north.

Then suddenly, at some point, she stops.
She looks around, and notices. The world she sees now is no longer how she imagines it would be.
It's foggy. And this dancing flame, despite the bluish colour, starts to emit fieriness more than her fluffy pure white fur can take.

And there she is, standing in between two crossing paths.

She stops.
She hesitates.
She knows which road she should take. But she doesn't move.

Once in a while she crawls. Then she looks back. And crawls again. And stops again. And looks back again.
The mesmerizing aquamarine is so fade. She is not sure anymore whether it's real or just a scrap of memories of hers.

Sometimes she hops. And stops. And looks back.
As if she is waiting for something.
After some time again, she hops again.
There. Just like that. And she starts to think she's being delusional.

But she can't stop forever.
So yes, she hops. And hops. And hops.

Time Alone

"You're thinking too much!"

Well. That phrase is commonly said to me whenever I tell friends about what is going on my mind. Again, over and over, ubtil it sunk to my head that I do tend to think too much, which almost always leads me to unnecessary thinkings. Which most of the time depresses me.

So I try to reduce it. As soon as I realize my own thinking has been torturing me, I call someone to spill everything, or to hang out or whatsoever keeps me away from thinking. It works, sometimes. Sometime it's just like running from reality.

But then again, actually, if people ever tell me how mature I am, I think it's because of that bad habbit of mine. Because I tend to think about everything. Overthink, you might say. Or in a positive term, I tend to reflect on what happens. So I know what I'm going through. I learn. Or at least I learn more about myself. Doesn't necessarily make me not do the same mistakes again.

And then I realize something new.
I overthink, yes, there's nothing new about it.
But it leads to a torture, only when I cannot think with cool head.
Or should I say, when I'm overwhelmed with feelings.

You know, sometimes it's really funny how we just spill something spontaneously without realizing it's the answer we've been looking for for a long period. And a moment after you utter it, you stop a sec just to say a mental 'aahhh yeah that!' to yourself.

And that's leading me to this answer.

A time alone is not always bad. In fact, that's exactly what you need to solve your problem. Because most of the time, my problem is a battle inside my head. The realist me versus the sentimental me.

I say, I'm more a realist than a sentiment. I use logic and brain, and I despise a decision produced by nothing but sentimental background. Like you don't even bother to think. It's stupid. Immature.

But then there is something new I discovered during this time alone.
That I may not be the realist I'm always proud of.

It's quite extreme, I'm aware. But it's like 'clicked!'. Come to think about it, it explains why I never learn from my mistakes. Something that I always wonder why.

Because no matter how my brain thinks it's not good, my heart is more honest. Sure, I let brain have the control. So heart must shut up. Must take the damage. That's because I think it's for the best. Of both.

And that made me think more. How come I'm such a contradict like that. Like I have a split personality. And they battle each other each time I fall for, well...

Then I come to this conclusion: because that's how I am raised. To think more than to feel. Just like when I finally realized that I'm more of an extrovert than an introvert. Just like how I finally became 50-50 of both introvert and extrovert. But still the real self of me wins. I am indeed more of an extrovert. But the battle between the realist and the sentiment hasn't been ended yet. Although I have a hunch, I just need one last hit to have a winner. And I'm a bit afraid of how different I will be, once it's ended. If heart wins, will I lose myself? Or will I be happier?

Sigh. Talking about happiness, I also notice something else. I am raised to know my place. To put others ahead of me. Because that's how people will like you.
But now, I think, so what?

Ahh. It's more annoying when I have to say it like this.

Yeah. I tend to sacrifice myself just to please others. Like when I just 'play' other's games so noone's going to hurt. So I shut up and follow. I bury what I'd like to scream. Because I think it would be inappropriate. That's why I always hesitate to try to grab my happiness. And in the end, I don't.

But you miss one point, Mom. I'm hurt. I don't know if you can always, always take it. But I can't. You also are not able to, if we want to be frank. I'm more honest than you, to begin with. More egoist than you.

However. When you are raised like that for 20 years, it's just not that easy just to switch, you know. I feel wrong not doing so. In the end, I keep doing the same thing while hurting myself.

Sigh. That's bad, I don't know my limit. I'm not sure whether I have surpass it yet or not. And I'm not sure until when I can keep going, pushing my limit like that. Even this time, I thought I have reached the limit and I've gone wrong.

I still have this time alone for awhile. Before the storm comes. Although I hope, by then I will already have strong legs to stand within the storm. So it feels like a rain instead. A mere rain that will wash my mind, that I can think clearly again.

So then I can say goodbye to this town and whatever I've gone through this one year.
So I can make peace to myself.