Repost

I visited my old blogsite and saw this entry titled SELF MAPPING. I don't know what inspired this entry, but I can somehow relate to it at this very moment. If this is the start of a cycle, where I have to go through the things I went through before, I'd stop right here, right now. 

I'm in the middle of nowhere, again. Damn.

Here's the entry:

I came upon a map while cleaning my room the other day. I presumed it was a treasure map, the “X” mark, the trails, the danger zones, were all clear and present. I barely noticed its well-defined sketch since I was more concerned on the moldering piece of paper at hand.

Earlier this morning, I tried to work on the map. I deciphered the codes and answered the riddles that were essential for the quest. I astonishingly finished it before lunchtime. Amazed at my own mind power, I decided to reward myself with a short nap under the oak tree.

It was sunset when I woke up. I felt a strange sensation around my feet that I can barely move them from its unperturbed position. My mind tells me to cry for help, but my feet were both helpless and dead. I tried using my hands instead. I dragged myself for about twenty meters and reluctantly gave up.

The orange canvass across the sky now turned dark and misty. I reached into my pocket, hoping to find anything useful. I found the map folded thrice. I noticed that the “X” mark moved from its original position, the other drawings changed as well. The map was now filled with trees, and trees.

The “X” mark was seated right on top of the treasure chest. And from where I was lying, I noticed that the soil I’m on is different. It was softer, and moist.My instinct tells me that the treasure is right under my body, but I didn’t want to get my hopes too high.

I moved away and began to dig using my scathed hands. As I went deeper, the wounds in my hands got bigger and bigger. I was crying, but I didn’t opt to stop, not this time. I became desperate, and struggled for the treasure, for greater glory.

Three feet, and I’m still digging.

I found a small wooden box with carvings on the cover. I opened it and saw that it was empty. It was a mirror box, I saw myself looking right into it. I saw my eyes, and how perturbed they were. I saw my forehead, sweating profusely. I saw my cheeks, covered in tears of exasperation.

I clenched the box between my arms, and lied down. It began to rain. It washed away all the worries in my face. I was soaked, I was cleaned, I was shivering from the cold. I curled inside hole I made, like a baby inside a womb. I’m about to be reborn. Make this a better one!

***

I thought I wanted to change then. The change must've been a failure, since I'm wanting another change now. Ar maybe that's how things work in real life, change really is constant. 

I heard mass this afternoon, and the priest was talking about 2011 predictions. A question pops inside:

Which is a better outlook in life?

"This is how I want to live my life."

or

"This is how I want to be remembered."

In any circumstance, will these two opposing thoughts meet? If otherwise, which is more motivational? 

I want to know the answer to these questions. I know I can make a sensible one, once I am done with my soul searching by the end of the month. Take me away PPP!