Seems the Pig of this year (this is the year of the Pig) is kinda rolling in the mud pit. Last night, I took some respite from my self-study of Flash and HTML programming, and basked in my literary ebooks.
I have been meaning to finish Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. And although I wasn’t spared the fatigue of the past few days (a mix of toxicity and plain serenity), I sat down before our humble yet powerful desktop PC with an open bag of Granny Goose Tortillos and a small cup of Kraft Real Mayo for dipping.
It was close to midnight when I decided to hit the sack. Since I was reading the PDF in full screen mode, I wasn’t aware that I had almost finished the book (I finished page 46 out of 61 pages). Coelho writes that good that the reader is so entranced, he reads and reads until suddenly it is the end of the novel.
I haven’t finished the book, obviously, but I have thought of so much while I was reading. The Alchemist talks about a search, about the Soul of the World, about a language that transcends not only human races but even species.
I have found my Truth, that is clear. However, there is, of course, this new chapter about living with the Truth, and keeping happiness alive with the Truth despite all the misgivings and tragedies of this very, very real world.
My very own search has not ended. If it were to end, would I be happy about an end? However, with this thinking, I am erroneously assuming that I have only one search to make.
We have our very own lives, crisscrossing and interrelated with the lives of others. However, each individual has a special place to find under the Sun, under the Moon, under the Stars, under this infinitesimal galaxy.