2004-02-12
Silken Petals
Bliss! Many nights have I spent writing,and painting a mural of my thoughts on paper. How I have toiled these past years...the sacrifices that have been made, and the hot, bitter tears that have been shed. Finally, I have something to show for it--a book award nomination. Perhaps the most prestigious of all accomplishments, and my day has been spent thinking which university will award me--Georgetown? N.Y.U.? Columbia?
If only! For once, just for one moment when she said "congratulations" and handed me the application for acceptance, Roger disappeared, and Aaron disappeared--it was only me...just me and my noble cause.
That's when I realized something very important--that Aaron really doesn't matter, and neither does Roger. For the past seventeen years of my existence I have lived through enough, and small rivers stem out of one vast and sparkling lake, and many times dry out. The only thing that I can hold onto in this world is my limited talent, and I plan to hold on to that as long as possible.
I suppose that I should tell my father, and maybe now he will accept the fact that I wasn't born a mathematician. I won't tell them, because I have a difficult time believing it myself. I don't feel any different...rather, it gives me the impetus to write and to aspire to be a Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, or Voltaire--a very lofty aspiration, but one worth having.
I don't mind the sun today...I find the afternoon quite pleasant. The air is finally getting warm, and the red and yellow flowers are opening their delicate and silken petals. The world is so full with life, and I sit and admire, and contemplate...
The wind comes and dishevels the raven-black hair, and a soft grin appears behind two lips...
I have my words to comfort me, and perhaps one day they will comfort another...and many more.