Stories

‘I hate crowds’, said one of the odds who flooded up the plaza this evening. I’d be lying for saying that my time was quick, but everything seemed to went in a blur that they already preparing for another twinkle celebration in this foreign city. ‘I’m up!’ said everyone enthusiastically – loud that it is almost impossible to listened to one who’s not up for a celebration. But today everyone’s a team – Anyone could run, jump or scream with joy or despair, it will still be counted as a cheer.

Being out in the dark amongst millions and across the furthest distance, maybe at some point we all look like little trinkets to one another… rusty, small and insignificant.

I am sick of feeling small and invaluable.

For thousands of years, hundreds of generations, and countless of conversations, we have been warned by the wises to not be drawn by the antics of this world. Whether it is in a form of wealth, fame, or others, nothing good ever comes from any of it. Just a little sip and we would be drunk for the rest of our life, while thirsting for more. Yet, how exactly do we escape it?

Yesterday, I woken up to a ringing doorbell at three in the afternoon, just five-hours away after I declared myself to focus on this abandoned backyard. Yet, time and time again, without hesitation I am hopping on to another crisis I have been constantly getting myself into. Now, I am driving up north to the city as fast as I can whilst chasing by another group of people I barely know, thinking if I might get myself into accidents on one of these trips.

Maybe, but let’s just wish that I still have something to recover when I get back.

…if I ever come back.

downwind, crosswind, final approach...
downwind, crosswind, final approach...
downwind, crosswind, final approach...

900.. 600.. 300 ft. off the ground.

300, is it? but what should I do now?

Shoot! I know I should have written that down before I took off. Wait, I think I remember something about the last 15 seconds.

Is it seconds or minutes?

15 minutes seem like ages from up here, but 15 seconds might too short for a smooth landing as I gotten closer to the ground.

“Keep your feet steady on your landing!” yell the instructor right before I left the ground sometimes ago. Silly, like I ever let them to stay off ground for too long.

“Push your body back, try to hug the wind as you fall.”

“Don’t close your eyes!”

“No! Avoid the water bodies!”

I am still alive, aren’t I? …are they lying?

They said, when you go parachuting you will encounter three phases on the process. First, you have got to prepared and tied yourself up to take the fall. It will take us to channel either courage or insanity within, because it will be the most important part of three. You have got to start it or else you wouldn’t get to the parachute part, right?

The second part is the moment when you need to open the parachute which strapped to your back. So, when is the right time? It depends, but for me is when the rope I am currently holding on have been let go on the other end. No, don’t worry, it is necessary. I would have gone to a terrible shock from the pressure if it weren’t so, and I might have died from the experience. Although it was dangerous, the rope is there because I insisted to go solo.

“Remember to pull this up when it’s already falling faster than you!” said the instructors just a minute ago. I thought I will be comforted by this rope a lot longer, but apparently my minutes have been up. Daring, and driven by insanity, I bet the “I will never go parachuting again” thought will soon cross my mind. As it was instructed, I closed my eyes and tried to pull up another tie which will open up my parachute.

“You will experience a little bit of shock as you open it. It feels like you have been pushed back by the wind, but it will be quick and not at all dangerous.” I keep eyes closed and my hand tight to both rope which no longer served each of its purpose. Not at all dangerous they said, but I think my heart skipped at least three beats as it unfurls behind me.

“After that, things will feel much more peaceful.” As my speed slowed down, I finally open up my eyes, “..and you will experience the most enchanting part of the fall.” and slowly let go of both tie. The view is magnificent.

Closer than what I used to seen on flights, I can see the whole neighborhood in perspective. On far left of the view, I can see that some of my neighbors are giggling over conversations as they are preparing an exciting wedding for the evening, one that all of the people in this neighborhood look forward to. On the bottom edges of the neighborhood, I see that three of my neighborhood part goodbyes, as one of them get into a taxi and left. On another part of the boundary, I can see that another two of my neighbors are hugging, keeping their eyes to one another, and feeling giddy as they are setting off to a new adventure ahead, beyond this very neighborhood.

And oh! that’s my beautiful tiny backyard on that end!

Over this long and beautiful five minutes I have experienced, I strongly believed that I see and hear things that are meant to be seen and heard by me. Maybe most of them didn’t have anything to do with me or to my favor, but when I look every inch of it from above, I can’t help but to remove myself from the narrative. This very neighborhood I called mine, are nothing but equally meaningful for them as it is also theirs to keep.

So, wherever each of you stand on parts of this neighborhood, carry on. And please, enjoy the rest of your day in our dearest neighborhood as I am catching up to my very first landing.

“I am scared of the heights,” said nobody with a fear of height, standing on top of a great distance, ever.

From time to time, I would like to whisper a word of hypocrite to myself. Not with a sense of contempt, just to beat others from doing so. While it comes a little less hurtful for my liking, it also gives a comical twist around the irony. I have said it first. Therefore, what others will say won’t matter. It is my secret weapon, and the punchline is always makes me laugh.

On that note, I have been entertaining myself with the idea of jumping for months now, or maybe years. And just like others, I love the view seeing from heights, I love flying. It might be the only way human can actually seen the most beautiful sights of the world. Although I don’t know how I came up with the conclusion that jumping might be a good idea for me to try, today I am strapping myself on a pair of safety jacket attached to the longest rope I could find. Ten? Twenty? Thirty? I don’t know.  All I know is that I have lost my mind long enough to finally, voluntarily, let myself fall.

Thrilling as it is, I am holding on to the rope as I throw myself back to the greatest distance I have encountered and whispered: “You are not scared of the height, you scared of the possibility on falling. You are not scared of jumping or flying, you scared of the foul landing.“

Now that I have gone too far, let’s just pray for the safest landing for us both.

You little daredevil.