Archaeology of the Soul: Seed.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Seed.

Here's to failure to study;

Daddy's little girl. Doesn't it move your little heart when you see a pregnant woman, calling her dad; daddy? Doesn't it make you want to tear? Even when she's going to be a mother soon, in a few months time, she is still; daddy's little girl. I assure you, despite all the hectics that have been going on with you and you dad, and if you're the only girl, or the youngest among the girls, you are still daddy's little girl. It just moves me when you still get to remember things you use to do with your father like; running around the garden during fasting month and eating Postman-Pat chocolates from London - when you're suppose to be fasting. Or like the time you were chased around in a hotel in Rome with a belt because you said; bodoh. Or like the time he bought you a pink, star-shaped Polly Pocket? Or the time he got back from Hong Kong, with boxes of barbie dolls stuffs? Now all you can watch is a 3 year old you on tape, running around with your father and mother. Tell me all about it; watching a kid version of you, mumbling words you can't hardly understand.

But He took me here, He took me here; so there's a reason to it.

Have you watched the world below; almost lifeless? Almost like the plugged in legos you used to play back in pre-school. You feel so high up, you can watch the whole thing and you're far away from the hustle and bustle of town. You wonder whether the people down there know that you're up above them; watching them; watching how tiny they are, how insignificant they are compared to everything that He has created. Have you ever wonder how they could just build and demolish something; almost like it doesn't mean anything to them? Heartless, not knowing in meant the world to a handful. Not knowing its the rice pot to families, not knowing its the love of their life, not knowing its historical features.

I watch my life from 50 feet.