The world looks so different. From my usual seat on the train, the world passes by so quickly you don’t have time to embrace its beauty. But from a window in my room, the world stands still. No movement except the rustle of the leaves from the swaying branches of the trees. So different.
But something in me is also different. Like a metropolis which is changing, mutating, like a chromosome multiplying exponentially in its own DNA, it seems like there’s somebody inside me, a stranger. The same body, the same hands, the same eyes, but with a different mind, a different heart maybe. There’s a stranger within, and I’m not sure if I welcome him totally.
I don’t normally cry watching movies, much less watching the leaves fall. But I just did. I thought indecision belongs to others only and it cannot be attributed to me, but I’m quiet unsure of myself now. Things have changed, and I don’t know if it’s good or bad.
The stranger within me keeps on whispering into my whole being that it is alright to admit defeat. He keeps on telling me that it is alright not to be in control of everything. So different from the world I belonged to, where things pass by so quickly.
In the stillness of my heart, I may have found the world I want to live in, but should I become the stranger within?
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