I Am Buraot

Summer’s almost over. The days are still hot but the nights are getting cooler. Outside, I can see that it was beginning to rain. It was just enough to wash away the haze that’s hovering over my head.

Even without the aid of beer, my belly begins to flab. My legs, now embedded with gout, are stiff for the lack of exercise. I couldn’t walk a mile without feeling the pain. Even the simple task of going down a flight of stairs takes me a while to complete.

I can only walk, not run. I can only jump, not leap. What was once a simple disparity is now a big difference. Despite this, this year, I will undergo yet another leap. Thankfully, one that wouldn’t require the use of my legs.

For this is a leap of faith… Continue Reading…

It was a desolate wasteland, a mix of hot sand and ragged dirt. There was no air except for the few occasional breezes that blow like hotter than summer.

From the broken cracks on the ground, you can see the scorching air rising up above it like debris trying to flee a burning magma. Even the smallest of flora have died from years of neglect from the heavens.

A lone camel came idling by. He is a dromedary, all the way from some mystic Arab lands. It had traveled the Great Plains, climbed past the edges of the everglades, and crossed the empty deserts. Continue Reading…

Gone was winter, and summer’s almost here. But despite the southern warmer weather, the northern cold still remains…

Once again, the slightly greenish haze went down the cascades of the everglades, its humid vapor condenses slowly and its frozen tentacles reaching across the hills and straight right through me.

When it’s warm it can get warm, which I am really fond of. But when it’s cold, it gets really cold, carrying an endless shower of bitter arctic breeze and oftentimes shooting those thunderous kinds of bland sarcasms. Continue Reading…

I have a dream. I dreamed of lilies and wildflowers that have begun to spring on the dry desert sands of the gloomy northwest.

The immaculate smell of freshness fills the waterless air that roamed the land for centuries, reinvigorating it with new flavor and crispness like raindrops till the arid wasteland.

I could hear the whispers of the wind as it changes its vibrant colors each and every time it turns. Like an endless array of colorful pageantry, it seems it was trying to shake things up slowly but quite beautifully. Like a high-tech display of natural beauty, it was flaunting its way into the dullness of the scorching hot desert. Continue Reading…

On top of this magnificent hill I whimper.

I was lying on my back, on top of the cool green mass of freshly cut grass. Parallel to my view was the city I have begun to love. So laid-back and quite friendlier than the city of angels, the one I used to call my second home.

Its lights were beginning to fade under the shade of the midnight sun, its vibrant glow started to dim under the enveloping glitter of the early morning fog and the rise of the stars and galaxies directly above it. Continue Reading…

I thought my I was done. My soul searching, my search for answers. I thought I was good enough. My experiences, my life skills. I thought I was wise enough. Been there, done that.

As always, I was wrong….

Years ago, I thought I have seen my soul. But now, poking through my own life, gazing through my very limited self, what I thought was my soul, to which I had seen countless times, was actually not the one I was hoping to see.

It was just the very shadow of  it. It was just a review of what I had become, and certainly not a glimpse of what would become of me. A shadow of my own self. Continue Reading…