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Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Adulthood Taught Me Magic Does Not Exist

When I was a kid, I was a great believer of magic. I believed too much that if you tell me things would vanished in thin air I would be quivering in fear. I looked up to everything around me as magic.

Until third grade, I would cross the bridge going to the house of my grandparents crawling. I was dreading the time that "magic" would appear and gulped down my whole body. Oh, the bridge wasn't so high really. But then, when you are young you think that everybody's too tall or everything's too deep. 



Magic also made my childhood easier. I fought my adversaries thinking that magic would do the brawling for me. I thought because of magic my opponents would go home inflicted with misery and I need not to commit sin by fighting them back.

Getting sick was also easier. My mind was already conditioned that "magic" would do the healing and I won't suffer for long. Family problems? Oh, I've given them up to "magic" for fixing, it made my life easier.

The lush meadows, the splendid blue skies, the marvel of the butterfly coming out from its cocoon, the multihued rainbow...they made my tiny heart ached for more wonders of the world. "Magic" imprinted in my soul the anticipation of my future where "bigger magic" dwells.

Many years later, my conviction was slowly tainted as I sail through hard life. I'm not really sure how it happened but I just woke up one day devoid of the "magic" feeling.

I guess that's the gruesome part of growing up. All the innocence slowly ebbs away as tribulations hit us over and over again.

Life's hindrances shred me with the fervor to trust "magic". I no longer crossed the bridge with trepidation or look at an illness as ephemeral. Problems cast dark clouds making me gloomy the whole day. Foes created permanent hole in my heart.

Things around me suddenly lacked wonder and they are just simply part of everyday living. It's not actually what I envisioned it to be where splendor of magic is abundant.

Life is simply a puzzle I work out each day. Sad as it may be, there is no such thing as "magic". 

Each day I face is simply a stepping stone of a continuous learning process. There is naught to fear in the journey ahead but deep down in my heart, a part continuously hope that I just remained a child forever.

However, returning can be done by memory alone. I could only track the road only once. If I see the end of path ahead, it doesn't mean that I could stop. It's just there to help me rest for a while. There is no "magic" that will help me to detour.

I have no map that would steer me all the way. No "magic" to help my voyage easier. Nobody to point which path is right, but I won't put myself in a bitter strife, my trod continues...against all odds.
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