aujourd'hui est beau



Today is a beautiful day. The weather was cloudless, the winds soothing and sun a warm comfort (a little too warm, perhaps, but the morning was fine). I was unusually spirited, cast away from the typical morbid, stale mornings some days may offer. So spirited was I, the heavy feeling that clouded my head was left ignored. Today is a beautiful day, because today is today as it is; just today.

Sometimes I wonder if I should, really, share today’s joy with everyone. But to share means that I’ll be proclaiming today to every friend and every family member, and for most occasions I prefer today to be quiet and simple (most unlike several other people). Still to share a joy brings forth larger joy to yourself, so I can’t help but feel a little (a very tiny little) disappointed that today is just as simple and quiet as I wish it to be.

I knew I had to be content with the path I chose to live today, but then the magic waned. Somehow the brightness and cheer of today died quickly under the raging sun. The heavy feeling on my head settled throughout the day, a hamper to my thoughts and the little happiness I wish to procure. I had stood under the sun awaiting my car to be fixed (or upgraded, more like). Though I enjoyed the foreman’s company, the heat and the turmoil boiling in my head was overwhelming, so at times I felt drifted off and blanked. Getting a new game (Shin Onimusha: Dawn of Dreams) didn’t help either, and a pathetically preposterous Chinese comedy couldn’t light up the cheer that was.

The day was fading into the dull and boring routine I always go through, and I chose it to be like this,

We live through our days the way we make it, whether cheer or gloom, but things never really do go the way you wish it to be. At times like this we embrace it with strength and love, bearing the pain its spike may cause. But today is a beautiful day, because it is today as it is today, shouldn’t things turn out better at least?

Luck or fate, chance or choice, I can’t change the day as it turned out to be. So I had to embrace it and bear its pain, but I just can’t help but feel unfair (in a small scale) and disappointed.

I hope that a couple of panadols can clear off this slight fever by tomorrow, because tomorrow I commemorate today with a lunch with my family.

Irony can be painful at times.

But just before I thought it would end bad, just before I thought today would become of those times you look back and wonder its irony, mom came home with a cake.

And they sang Happy Birthday above a small little cake of hope and love.

Thanks, everyone. Today couldn’t have been more beautiful.

But I’d like to wish it myself, as I always do every year. Happy Birthday, J-E.