Cliff-Top Ground Displacement

For the endless journey we praise, doubts are flags.


I recall the moments I had my hopes hanging high in the clear blue sky. The concept that made me so fearless and unstoppable was that if anyone tries and pushes him/herself hard enough, he/she’ll get to that finish line. The line that was once promised to always be there although it was often out of sight the second we believe it was there. In the lonely or any other winding road where we race this Ferrari, haze and storm speak in a language that baffles us. And yet, in an age-old mysterious way, we tell ourselves to keep going.

If there was a chance I could gain a superpower, now I know what suits a stubborn mind like mine: a stupid mirror. Something that will also function as my troubleshoot. Those dreadful storms that became a great friend of mine will always scream trying to kick my guts to say something. Nothing more about this constant reminder of me being stupid. One thing I know is that these loyal folks will always be here with me wherever I go and however old I get. There is no end to stormy and deadly journey.

Despite of the infinite uncertainties we embrace in life, one thing I’m absolutely certain about, something that wakes up my long sleeping anger: seeing someone taking the exit lane in the long highway journey. I am not deaf to those lonely questions in my ears while flying my own rocket to the distant star. To me, or to anyone who feels strongly about their faith in something invisible to the naked eyes of others, these questions are the easiest excuse to fly back to the comfy Earth. In short, I hate to admit that humans have fear afterall, and how, to the greatest degree of my naivety, we actually possess the vulnerability that allows us to be twisted by our own doubts. Our lives are between cliffs.

For as long as I will continue to hunt, grill, and eat my dream, I sense something that I should never leave behind: the doubts. I am eternally conscious of thousands of doubts that will be in every battlefield I choose to bleed and sweat. Or knowing that I will always have to buckle up with wisdom while reacting to the difficult crossroads. Doubts, for they way they represent themselves in many lives of others and me, are the essential part of the journey to be mature. Mature in every way we possibly grow. Doubts are the currency we use to trade in times of crisis. To me, I’d rather let my guard down and listen carefully to what my doubts have to show as my naivety crumbles.

the cliff collapses.

Rebuild. Putting every piece back together again. On your own, in the world where no eyes can see your fear, you grow. Even if the cliff-top ground gets displaced.