After six years has passed, I'm finally writing here with a new point of view, different thinking style, or should I say I am more open but not liberal? But I am close to neutral, and sometimes I am not neutral and I opposed something diligently.
So what's with our topic today? Attending the funeral of my old self. When this image appeared on my twitter's timeline, or feed, or whatever you call it (which is X now and I just haven't move on from labelling it as Twitter - i miss the blue bird icon), the first thing that came through my mind is,
"Why do you want to attend the funeral of your old self? She's dead and it is totally unnecessary and unproductive. You don't have to check on her, do you want to bring her back and ruin your new self again?"
There... there...
"Forgive your old self" out of nowhere, these words popped into my mind. BAM! The Big Bang of mind just happened to me. In a split second I realized that I still hate my old self and I never wanted to see her again, and I never wanted any slides of the flashbacks to visit or perching on my mind. Still trying to accept the flaws, the stupidity I've done, the things I need to unlearn, and the traumas which already sunk deep down into the sea of tears... the tense of being triggered couldn't hold the amount of emotions trapped after so long, it's getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and finally it exploded into a new universe. A universe that is willing to accept all kinds of hell, all kinds of heaven.
Now, have a visit to the funeral of your old self and you shall have forgiven her. Tell her a proper goodbye. Give her a token of sympathy and let her go. Bury her with love and seeds of cherry blossom. For then when you shower it again with tears, it will grow and bloom, and your heart wouldn't be hardened by a stone of sorrow, anymore.
Amor Fati.
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