2010 is about 2009

If inactive accounts could get cobwebs, my blogger would look like Aragog's lair. You see, I'm running out of things to write. The stories I think of writing sound sad and dark. The things that happen each day seem so mediocre - too uninteresting to blog. I envy the people who see the beauty and can blog about simple things. Maybe tomorrow, I'll try seeing the world in a different view. If not, the day after tomorrow. Or next week. I'm not sure when, but I know that it will happen.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a long time. I want to write, but I'm not sure how to. I don't even know what to write. It makes me sad.

I was thinking of writing about how 2009 marked my life. 2009 was rough and it made me realize a lot of things. I could go on listing everything I learned in the previous year, but those, I know, you have learned already. However, one thought struck me.

What happens after time has healed the wounds?

And so the prince who got wounded from the battle married the princess and they lived happily ever after.

Years after...

The prince bathed one day and saw the large scar on his left leg. It was just a scar. No blood. No pain. No evil queen's minions to slay. But even years after, the battle was still very vivid - the crimson blood, the dark skies, and even the queen's evil cackle. Seeing the scar, the prince remembered how painful the wound was, and he cried.

But the prince lived happily ever after with the princess! Why so much pain?

When time has turned your wound into a scar, would you still feel the pain? No?

The battle might have brought the prince traumatic experience. Poor prince. Won't his happy life with the princess be enough to save him from madness?

When the wound you know time has healed hurts, were you wrong thinking that it has healed?

You weren't. I wasn't. I can't find my reasons yet, but I'm sure that they're here somewhere.

This is the best I can do to keep the end of this post from hanging. And as I have said, the reasons are here somewhere. I'll look at the world differently. I will see beauty in simplicity. I will discover the significance of an ugly, painful scar. Maybe not tomorrow, or the day after it. Maybe not as soon as next week. But finding it, I know, will happen.