hello.
i always saw myself as the boy living in a shoe. entrapped by the strict grandmother who feeds me disgusting porridge and crusty oatmeal, and always sitting by the window peering into the fields outside. the boy yearns for freedom and to remember the experience of being carefree and care-less.

he sits in the old dusty corner and entangles himself in lucid dreams of running away in the blanket of the dark night when everyone is asleep (especially that crazy old granny!) dressed in his dark blue striped pajamas and socks and gloves, he carefully slips down the creaky stairs, past the guard dogs and to the outer gates to steal a portion of the idea of being outside. he tries to take in as much as possible, with the breeze smothering his face and dirt in between his toes. one, two, three... okay it is time to go. and he runs back into the shoe, and up to his bed. he feels a burning excitement because for a moment, he was where he felt free.

one morning, the boy was on his normal routine. sitting by the window and peering to the outside. he made star shapes with his breath condensations on the window. staring back into the room, granny was busy making her oatmeal again and children were in straight lines, doing what granny orders them to do.

at this moment, a familiar voice beats into the mind of the boy. it was that funny man that aunt jocelyn told him about when he was five (the boy is 13 now.) "Hello there, remember me? I guess it is hard to see with that thing on.. Let me help you." following that was a blinding light - just like how your eyes feels starry when someone turns on the lights when you are sleeping, you cringe your eyelids tightly first and gradually, gently lift them up... first you see a blinding white, then it merges into a kaleidoscope of grey and purple and then into a toasty blur and you see the big picture.

breeze. grass. sun. and in front of him stood a man. the boy could only see the man's feet though, even at 13, he was still considered short for his age. the man had nice toes and leather sandals on. "There you go, isn't this better?" the boy looked around and recognized the surroundings. he was at the field and in front of him was the big old shoe radiating with the market of groaning and sobs.

on the boy's hands was a cyan blindfold with golden stars. it seems like he was been wearing this thing all along, his head still bore the marks of the tightness of the blindfold. he understood everything now.

----

This my happiness below
Not to live without the cross;
But the Saviour's power to know,
Sanctifying every loss
-William Cowper

Thank you, Father. I think I have been focusing on the wrong stuff.