Today feels different. Yes, I know, everyday feels different, if we are being particular. Today’s difference is of a distinctly variant hue, as though it is bred from seeds which have been planted in the preceding days and weeks, seeds whose fruits are only now starting to show. Today’s difference is bound in feelings and…
Today feels different. Yes, I know, everyday feels different, if we are being particular. Today’s difference is of a distinctly variant hue, as though it is bred from seeds which have been planted in the preceding days and weeks, seeds whose fruits are only now starting to show. Today’s difference is bound in feelings and trappings of good and growth, and of life and love. But that is not all today is about.
Before we get any further, we really should have a little naming ceremony. I have never been comfortable with calling you ̶ or any of your forbears ̶ simply “diary”. That is too impersonal and too transitory a name, a title. After some thought, I have decided to name you “Aliento”, “breath” in Spanish. I was breathing while I was engaged in the process of thinking about your name and it struck me; I really do like breathing. So, there you go, chap. You are a person now. Okay, perhaps only a pseudo-person, but I believe you get my drift. With that out of the way, let us set forth and conquer the world ̶ and ourselves ̶ together. Please, do not shake your head. I am not crazy, even if you are starting to think that I am, even if this naming ceremony is. I just am… yes, you guessed it… different.
Dreams are funny things. We all have them, some more than others. Some dreams are clear and strong while others are weak and flaky. No matter their nature, Aliento, I think they exist to remind us of our our ability to project ourselves beyond the immediate, and exercise our full humanity in pursuing what may or may not be higher ground. Dreams could be a burden to the bearer or they could be wings to the one who seeks to fly. I have dreams and you have dreams too (even if yours are limited to hoping I talk to you every day). I believe it is our duty to honour our dreams and see them through, whenever they are fuelled by noble intentions and motives.
Motivations are weird things. I believe that the study of human achievement is merely a study of human motivations. That, nine times out of ten, the man with a strong enough desire fueled by personal, well-articulated, reasons would be a success. This may be wrong in cases where the man seeks to achieve success at the expense of the intrinsic good of another; there is only passing, pleasure that can be achieved thus. The man with noble intentions, be they to honour his parents or push society forward, to avenge a loss or pay off a debt, or to simply be the best that he alone is capable of being, that man has the stars with him. That man has persistence – the singular quality of never quitting – in the face of the inevitable push-backs.
Aliento, applications for the writing master-class are now being accepted; the online portal opened a week ago. Michael, our dear friend, really wants me to put in an application, to at least try. Sometimes, I think he has more faith in my abilities than I do, myself. I really do not think my writing is good enough and frankly, I am afraid of being rejected. I am afraid to make this dream come true because I likely do not trust my motivations. Yes, it is an amazing opportunity, if I get in. I know that. That is why you are here. You would help me get through this indecision, this all-consuming fear I sense within whenever opportunity beckons. I just might be like those awful characters in Hollywood movies, that push away loved ones and take various substances, and hear voices everywhere. Nah. That is too extreme, joor. I am fine. It is only fear, nothing more.
Morning and night, we would share short stories and thoughts and, hopefully, I would find solace and peace, along with a good place to create my best work. I read again two of my old stories, the one about those walks I once took with Sally and the other about love, and I can scarcely believe those were from me. Those feel like they were written by a different person. Perhaps, they were written by a different person. I just have to believe I can do better. I have to overcome these voices in my head.
Wish me luck, my friend. Wish us luck. A new journey beckons.