YESTERDAY IS GONE

It was just yesterday that I have lost in boredom. I remember it now. That perfect milieu where the songs of life were continuously playing—cruel and sombre, yet true—in a way, made my heart ache. I was just there, getting weary of obscenity, gripping a pen, stubbornly attempting to inscribe something that could make myself feel less morbid, as if finding an antidote for self-inferiority.

To write is never easy, especially if it is your waterloo. And I needed my innate dexterity to reach the optimum for me to break that undermining tendency of my mentality. The question that was always bugging me of why I still take a resolute stand of myself on that particular craft had been ceased by the reason that it is indeed my dream to be a good writer.

I have taken no part on our school paper, way back in high school. I was not even a contributor. I didn't exerience to be sent to other schools for writing competitions. These belittle me. These facts oppress even the smallest possibiity in me to grow into skillfulness.

Days have passed but it was still yesterday. Boredom was still taking its eminence and the harshness of the songs of life was still lingering. Clinging to the decorum of what my mind only knew all that time, I again chose to stay in the gloomy part of my life, as I always did. When sorrow penetrated my heart and when tyranny invaded my thoughts, I couldn't help but to be hopeless.

Yes, I had a dream but methought, I was of part of it. I was filthy weak to enter the realm of its realization.

Until someone broke the walls of hell, which were then instantly built by depression and frustration, where I have been detained. Triggering the vision of hope amidst my hopelessness, he unconsciously reached out a hand and got me out from the abyss of uncertainty. I know him. I know I have met him before. This young fellow works for excellence with persistence and compassion, never tried to hold back for the sake of mediocrity. He once told me this: "Weakness becomes a weakness when you accept it." And I asked myself, "Had he also been to the gloomy part of life like that of mine?" Certainly yes. So why accept weakness!

Notwithstanding the feeling of almost being dead I finally chose not to be buried on that graveyard. The bitter songs of life were little by little fading until they were no longer echoing in my head. The reverberations of self-inferiority and anxiety which once asserted themselves were gone. The sound of fear was no longer audible. My old world was gone.

At last, beautiful dawn---I can now see you as I look upon the horizon.

A cliche this may sound but God has the perfect plan on how we could move on. He may use other people of great testimony and character like what had happened to me. We may still not know, hitherto, of what good things life may offer, especially when our souls are downcast. But I tell you this: We are not to stay too long on morbidity for we will not want ourselves to be the cause of all the hurts and harms we are going to experience on such state. Don't let the entire hope be devoured by yesterday because yesterday is gone. Today is the perfect time to listen to the songs of life--not anymore sombre and cruel, but full of delight and hope.