One can see how time flies, and when it does, by the time you realize it, it flies so fast with events or with dullness, but either way time continues to swing forward, and every second with every step that you take things change, people change, everything changes, and every moment you stay there you have to decide for yourself it its worth standing there as a bystander of history or be an active maker of history. Either way, both are different perspective to a story of time, whom some will record, some won't. So either you get to be the first person narrator, the third party narrator or just a witness, a bystander with a silent mouth.
And with the change of times dictate the change of pace. Sometimes I go and try to make history, sometimes I just stand by and be a observant bystander, sometimes I switch roles, although by right I should be actively participating in the creation of history, not as an observant, (even observers have significant roles if you read through the quantum time-line selection theory) but rather be of those who "confirm" that such a time-line is taken, and such a history is being shaped.
And how do we preserve these moments? We've got audio logs, we've got video camera footages, we've got pictures. Whilst each and every material serves to hand in a different purpose, and their effect used will have a varying effect on how we want to present something that happened on that time, it will ultimately be different. Varying.
And what of those who don't have pictures or video footages? Or even audio logs? I don't know.
I'm one of those that have evaded cameras for the past 20 years of my life. I do recall spesifically that I did take some pictures meant for certain occasions but they were destroyed when my hard disk went ka-put some two to three years ago. However, that was a history that I'll want to leave behind and pull up a gigantic yellow crossline tape on it written "CAUTION: DANGEROUS, HAZARDOUS MATERIAL. MAY HARM YOUR SOUL" on it. So, let's take some time and fly back into the window of history. Some of it, captured on moments I've never expected, were very unphotogenic, (that's how 97% of my pictures turned out to be; very unphotogenic) but they reminded me of the person who I've always strived to be, who I've always dreamt to be.
And even though that dream is slightly altered, but with some of these pictures at least I could remind myself of my past. For many reasons, somehow these pictures serve as a very strong reminder who I was, and who I want to be. However, the severely lack of pictures to detail my trails is disturbing. Not because there are lack of them, but for the bad, ugly, good and better times, there are lack of substantially evident pictures to support what claims possibly that I've done. Even my name, often misspelled, and it can't do much to bark up and say "this was my history".
However, its interesting to note that most of the time, the pictures that other people have taken on me, candid ones especially, reveal the nature of the ungodly aura that I possess. The way I walk, the way I talk, the way I act, the way I deliver my goods taking on the identity of "The Transporter". (Please note ungodly and unholy are different)
I wonder what's history will write me as? A troublesome side kick? A troubled individual struggling with life? I wonder. Maybe some pictures will shed some light. Or perhaps a video view. Only time and historians will know.
And as for myself, its a good check whether I could live up to the notion of being a Baha'i scholar on literature.
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