I Will Meet You There

I am standing before a foreign painting - one that is graced with the strokes of an adroit artist - framing a scene of what seems to be a city in motion. It depicts both night and day, where occasional street lights shine upon the silhouettes of many a pedestrian, the swift steering of cars and the absence of bright blooms against a metropolitan skyline. For many days I have been living in some sort of surrealism where my senses are drawn to certain blurs in life, something I still can't quite put my finger on. It is very much like an out-of-body experience where I embody a spectator to witness my own moves, my thought process not quite intact and my third eye vision sharper than what it was before. Whatever the case, life seems to be moving at a pace of a different dimension, and I am one out of the many pedestrians in that painting trying desperately to find my way home. It is only but lately that I find myself encountering shifting definitions of time, expectations and loyalty - a trio combination that when misused altogether at once, has the potential of burning one too many bridges in life. It is a funny feeling, having to craft your own interpretation of these terms and setting them up against a benchmark of another individual's - why did I think it was alright to do that anyway?  And whoever mapped out the idea of putting my hope in another person in my fragile little mindset? Ironically, taking a step back from meddling with the clutter in my life has allowed me to fully view the extent of the mess I'd so carelessly created all throughout this part of my journey. It has taken me lesson upon lesson for me to fully comprehend the stark reality that failure exists in people, taking into account that I am part of that unfortunate number. But then, I take another step back to view the chaos, and realise that life does have its way of cleaning up for us at the most timely occasions, and the beauty of it lies in the restoration that follows gradually after. There is so much to be thankful for, such as miraculous career openings, long-standing friendships that stand the test of any drama, and a future secured in the hope of One. So what about this foreign painting before me? Do I continue observing this dimension halfheartedly, whilst reality continues to exist roaringly around me? I suppose only my acute senses will tell down the road.