2025-05-20

There is always a door in front of me and it has been here in the last 10 years. Every single day it shows a faint specter of itself in every minor inconvenience. With every small hint of frustration and annoyances, a part of it shows in front of me as if allowing myself to feel more of my current emotions would allow it to become clearer in my vision. In all aspects, curiosity would lead to this false sense of clarity. I am only reminded of its existence when I am in crisis. Whenever my spirit is tested, the door shows itself unannounced but expected. There is anticipation brewing of the possibilities of the other side. In times of stillness and peace, the door visits me in my daydreams. During those times, I wonder if I should give in to the world in order to feel the touch of its woodwork. Would the texture of its panel allow me to have a hint, or at least a glimpse of understanding of what's on the other side? This boundary holds me hostage to the burden of unknowing and it is the only thing in this world that I choose to not know.

This decision is not brought by willful ignorance but I know what's on the other side. At least, I have a faint idea of it and its value differs depending on my current emotional state. A lot of times, it acts as the temptation but some other times, it becomes this beacon of hope. It may be easier to understand the former but the latter proves to be its own mystery. Sometimes, a difficult situation presents itself to be the very thing that anchors me to existence. It commands me to stand my ground and overcome hatred. No matter how much I want to deny it, I know that I have a lot of hatred in me. This is a type of hatred towards the world, to the people in it, and the very existence of the people in it. It is not just on who they are or what they do but the hellish dance this world has forced me to participate in. For so long, I have desired peace, but everything lately has become a test of spirit. This war of attrition against fighting for who I am by always attempting to be who I want to be. I cannot falter in vice because I have chosen virtue. But the world always presents itself with a comedic timing of catching you in a joke that pops your tiny bubble of humor.

I always think about the door and sometimes I think that regardless of my choice to keep it closed, even when it starts to become clear in my rage that it persistently presents itself in front of my eyes like a buzzing fly that I can't swat away, all my efforts to ignore it will be for nothing. I welcome the possibility that the choice was not meant for me to make and it will start to open itself slowly or in a forceful intrusion where I get dragged inside this thing that I choose to remain unnamed and unknown. As much as I pull myself up in the midst of fatigue and surrender, this door will just be there and open itself in a way that would call me to cross the other side. I imagine there would be songs and there would be silent invitations of just giving it all up and let my feet step into the abyssal portal. In all my attempts, I would still try to not give in and hold myself steadfast in the midst of the quarry of the reality of my own making. I still think I am where I need to be and I am here where I matter the most. My purpose is to resist this door until it opens. It must open itself for me. I cannot be the one to open it. In this faith, I put my trust to imagine that touching the knob changes what is meant for me on the other side. If this door is divine, I cannot taint it with my being.

This is the conclusion I came up with after realizing that all the things I've done in the past by asserting my will, to be egotistical enough that I can change a portion of my own reality on my own, will also be the cause of my own downfall. I must surrender to the world and what it offers in a way by keeping it sacred. In this light, it was a prerequisite to discern what is holy from the wicked. To know what is wicked requires sacrificing a part of one's soul without falling into corruption. What remains untouched by the profane can still be made whole by answering the call of what makes everything holy. This door is currently wicked. It can only be opened by the divine.