I left half of my heart in the northest place in the southeast Asia. Papa, help, I fell in love with the sound of the wind that kissed my lips.
In my dream, I had always been here. Different name in previous life.
I wonder, how many names can we remember in a lifetime? where does knowledge lead us to? Is our fate written by the same hand?
We, humans, we were born as the curious ones, we live as the seekers, it is ashamed that we put one another into boxes of categories.
We step on the same land, walking under the same sun, work for a better life, yearn for security, we have a dream in common. How have we become strangers to each other along the line of growing up?
I pray that we'll remember not by listening, or believing not by seeing. We'll find ourselves staring at the horizon, and let our heart be touched.
We'll start to recall strange names, we'll start to accept colours and patterns. That's why, on the first place, the writer, God, gathered us in a circle. A circle that guide us to one another no matter how many miles we have run.
I have started running. i have not wandered so many miles, yet I have not seen much, maybe I still perceive the world is extensive. Nevertheless, having been running has touched me in many possible ways.
They are no longer seen as threat, and I am no stranger to them.