unsent letter

everyday in life we make choices and decisions. sometimes good sometimes not so good and whichever it is we have to move on. its scary when you think about how some not so good decisions could either be brushed off casually as we live on to another day or it could be in a way 'life altering'.

if we were to take the time to ponder upon our past decisions, in one way or another, it lives with us for the rest of our lives. sometimes even us realizing it. the person we are today, the place we are in right now, the life that we are living, are made up of the accumulation of our past decisions.

however, does that mean we have to be extremely cautious before we make each and every decision from here on?

like how you had decided on this. no one really did or even try to stop you did they? they all knew it was your life and yours only. there really wasnt much to be said. they knew that you were old and wise enough to decide upon your range of choices.

do you stop for a day to think if it was the wisest?

the choices that came after you chose that route; have you ever paused at an intersection of your life to look back at the people youve had to step upon to get where youve gotten at today? has it even crossed your mind to take a short halt? or do you just live by the motion of not looking back and just moving on?

somedays i wished you were still there. the old boy we used to know. the kid whom we used to run around with. the one who stole car keys and drove all the way without a care of our child-like reckless behaviour. its so easy to just leave - the whats and weres of our past years. so easy indeed.

some of us instead just sit and type out long unimportant unsent letters.

its awfully easy to take what we had and have for granted. we are always so careless of the things that comes so easily into our destructive hands. perhaps thats what we were and will be, destructive by nature. even we dont realize it. we have been so comfortably nestled all these years that we dont even think of how are we going to deal with the grief when these little things slowly slip through our fingers, like the billions of sand we have allowed to just get blown and thus taken away by the ever changing wind. every single day. thats how much we've lost in the short period of time.

this beating machine of mine. it is such a funny thing. it beats for every joyous occasions and the little shortcomings along the way. but it never changes it beat. its rhythm. it still beats for the things that has been hurting it for the past countless years. and yet it still beats whenever the opportunity comes for a short but happy reunion. it choses to be dillusional. you see, to be dillusional is sometimes an option. one that could bring temporary happiness, but nevertheless, still a piece of joy. it beats for that then. and it will still beat for that now. or even in the future.

recently it has been hiccuping. more than the usual. what if one day it decides to stop? what if one day its plug is pulled? will it still believe that it is still beating for the same reasons? only that it is no longer physical. is that how it will be in the coming days?

if only it knew how.