8.11.2016

The Infinite Moments

People say writing about a moment makes it infinite. While I couldn't agree more, there are some moments that don't really need to be written about; for they're too whole on their own. They're either too special or just plainly painful. I have my share of those infinite moments, too. Though, honestly, I would only like to write about the ones that were too special. It includes the time I was growing up. Shaping up from the silly 7th grader who only cared about the new Faber Castell classic colors' new collection hitting the store soon to the work-in-progress I am today.
As a kid, I remember walking through bookstore and smelling new books that someone would wrap and load in car for me to take home,

I remember buying fresh corn grilled on coals that street vendors would be selling outside the downtown skyscraper hospital my grandfather used to go to,

I remember storming into my favorite store and filling my basket carelessly without glancing back at the price tag for I knew it would be mine anyways,

I remember going on hunger strikes when whatever I asked for was not given to me,

I remember getting terribly low when I got 99.9 marks in a test out of 100,

I remember telling stories over lunch to my mother how I got into a fight with some kids in school and still stayed out of trouble.
I remember it all. Like bright and vivid scenes from a movie I recently watched and both gratitude and nostalgia falls on me. Childhood is another age that wouldn't return, like a lot of things in life. But I'll forever cherish the fact that there was a stage I lived through the people I loved and also with the people who didn't know how to love but we made it to the age of departure; both happily and unhappily.

Now that I will be turning 19 in few days (16 Aug, mark yo' calenders) and it feels like that child-like part of me will be going away, exactly the way a weary traveler leaves a comfortable inn after a long journey for another one. I wouldn't be entitled to 'she's just a kid' excuse anymore 'cause heck yeah, I would not be a kid anymore. After 19, comes the big scary and real adult word; 20. And that, my friend, is the start of another long journey.
August is considered the month of birthdays, which it probably is, as I have at least wishes around 10 people and the list seems to go on. If your birthday is in the month of sun too, then yay happy belated/advance birthday to you. Gah, I just love August way too much.
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