Pondering?

And as the threshold between yesterday and today is surpassed, here I am, once again, wondering what this next set of twenty-four hours will have to offer me.

Did you know that it's actually a rather relaxing feeling as one ponders upon many things. Perhaps it's the fact that for this pondering to even commence, one must have at least a very slight amount of serenity to greet them. It's funny actually, how most of my deepest thoughts as to what will become of me in the future, or perhaps, how would I cope with certain disastrous future events, all come up as I sit here in the dark, coziness of my college dorm room listening to the shower in the background as a suite mate cleanses himself of his daily odours and filth. But then again, since when were things not completely contradictory to each other.

For example (and albeit, it may be rather disturbing), I'm Catholic, yet I find it much more disconcerting to see interracial couples as opposed to homosexual ones. This is not to bash against my own religious outlooks, but it's just another contradiction that I make do with, I'm guessing.

The other billions of intricate details that, when woven together in such a specific pattern, form my overall persona contradict one another too. I am not a gradiented melting pot design in which you can't make me out. I'm the tiled mosaic that seems almost childishly and hastily put together that it seems out of place, and not very appealing to look at or interpret. However, if you take enough time to actually look at all of these pieces, you will see that though it's rather random, there's a unique aspect to it that cannot be matched. You find yourself drawn in, and then never letting go. Then a bound is formed.

This is what friendship is.

Whether this is advantageous or disadvantageous, I know not. My closest friends have always been very limited to a select few, perhaps six or seven people at most, but these are tight bonds. I'd always found it rather hard to make friends, but these few that I've made, we've known each other for years, and this friendship doesn't appear to be deteriorating either.

And then, once again, I find myself isolated in this room as these friends of mine are probably all sleeping soundly in their own beds. The clicks and sounds of the keyboard keys consecutively being pushed down upon has become a natural sound to me. At times, I don't even notice it anymore. My hands just instinctively guide themselves above this plain with smooth gestures, and this is how I'm communicating.

This is language.

Be it spoken or written (or typed, if you prefer that to be a separate category), my realisation of language being expressed in so many different ways is not exactly a new one, but still rather intriguing to stumble upon when I, once again, find myself in this serene state. It is so broad, so vibrant, but still so limiting in many ways if diversity were to be taken out of the equation. Some things can only be expressed through written scripture, while others, with the numerous intonations in one's vocal chords. Some don't even need words, gestures become sufficient enough to communicate all messages. However, we cannot focus on one of these alone and hope that we will survive. We must implement all forms to truly master the art of language and communication.

I will not attempt to imitate James Joyce's Ulysses, but were you to imagine this entire post completely devoid of any punctuation, this message I'm conveying to you through these words would be completely lost. It could be read in a series of shouts just as easily as a stream of whispers that drift off into nothingness. Periods themselves help convey emotion. Though you may not see it physically, you can assume that I'm not shouting throughout this entire post (and don't be so daft as to say that I could be, I don't contradict myself that much). There is a certain flow that I like to keep as I write, was that expressed?

Ah, the magic of such things, but now, I must bid you adieu for even constant attempts to fabricate great wisdom cannot combat the mighty power of exhaustion.

But perhaps these drabbles or pondering blogs (or whatever you would want to label them as) will provide a new insight for you, and maybe even me when I read it in the future. It will give me a chance to reflect and perhaps even adjust my own views as I continue my journey through this thing called life.

Though I suppose the lesson we must all learn is that, wisdom or intelligence is not about knowing answers. It's being able to wonder about things in such obscure manners, yet not to the extent in which it would affect one's life negatively.

It's being able to accept the fact that you don't know, and still be comfortable with that feeling.