Apparently, I am back to “don’t know anything” age…

I don’t know why when the wind blows to my Face, I often mistake it as my mom blowing on my wounded soul.

I don’t know why when the sun warms me up, I often mistake it as those who (still) love me hug me. Too tight, sometime.

I don’t know why life must have its ups and downs. Why can’t it stay up? Or even stay down? Why just as I get used to one, it must change?

I don’t know why sometimes I want to cry, but no tears, and other time I don’t want to cry, tears come? Laugh is the same.

I don’t know why everyone seems knowing everything, except me.

On the bright side, (after all, this is a Holiday Season), I begin to understand a lot of things…

I remember one story I read long time ago, about a king and his 3 daughters. One day, he asked his daughters what the most important thing in her life was. Two daughters answered: “The King.”; the youngest one said: “Water.” (Do I remember it right?)  I knew what it was trying to tell me when I read it, but now, I understand why the youngest daughter said what she did, and how the youngest daughter felt; I really understand.  For that, I am happy.  

My favorite writing teacher offers a music-related class online; I thought it would be fun to attend. While sampling his class (I had to, since I know almost nothing about music), I suddenly realized that I had no intention in learning music; I was trying to get hold of that younger me. Admitting it or not, I am getting old.

Wait, maybe I do know more than I thought I had known. Let’s see… about the wind — it must be that I know my mom would still comfort me whenever I feel hurt inside; about the sun — it must be because how strongly I want to connect to my friends, even though I haven’t written a word for so long; about life’s ups and downs —  oh well, skip this one; about wanting to cry but no tears – something to do with  my rebelling personality, maybe; about everyone knows everything – I should get an IQ test.   

One writing teacher asked if we would rather be a happy pig or a miserable philosopher. I begin to understand why I should choose _______.

Happy Holidays, my friends.