I'm not feeling too original right now, so I'll post one of my old entries...an entry made in a diary. Today I was 'summer' cleaning the house, and I chanced upon this diary entry. I have a predilection to write in metaphors.. so as to make my writing reflective of my thoughts, yet not understandable to someone who knows me only casually.. classic INTP writing I guess. For those who are not familiar with this typology, INFP is one of the sixteen Myers-Briggs Type Indicators (MBTI). I am quite smug in the knowledge that of all the sixteen, INFP is one of the least found percentage wise in the general population. Anyway, enough of babbling, here goes the old post:


A River Meets a Sea
If I am to be born again, make me a river and not a sea. As the river flows by valleys and plains, towns and villages, forests and glade, she gurgles with joy and wonder, with the thrill of discovering new places and new faces, adding on a myriad hues to her sparkling waters. She befriends young and old, picks up smooth pebbles and roughly cut rocks and keeps flowing. When she is angry, she bursts forth and washes away whatever comes in her way. And then she is calm again, ready to flow to her destination. Her course is not charted, she makes her own course. Her waters are fresh, full of life-giving elixir. But the sea is dark, deep and still. He has nowhere to go and no one to meet. His water is salty, as if a billion people shed their tears into his heart. Even when he is in pain, his waves break upon the rocks in despair and helplessness. The river pours into him, but where can the sea pour into? Nowhere; he must stay there for it is the fate of the sea to accept and not to seek.


Well, come to think of it, I've already changed from the time when I wrote this entry in my diary. I was feeling like the sea then, but now i'm feeling like the river :-)