One morning, I woke up like any other ordinary day no school, no plans, and no genuine connection with anyone I knew. Wandering aimlessly, I found myself passing by a tattoo shop and spontaneously walked in. I asked, "Can I get a tattoo right now?"
The artist asked curiously, "What's on your mind?" Without hesitation, I replied, "An old watch."
At that exact moment, something felt magical about the old watch or maybe that's what I desperately wanted to believe. It felt like I was craving for some higher power, yearning deeply to be seen, heard, and loved.
I wanted that watch to symbolize something meaningful, to bring purpose to my life. Reflecting on myself at that moment, I realized just how hollow I felt like a body without a soul.
But isn't experiencing emptiness part of what makes us grow? It sounds cliché, like something out of a cheesy novel. Yet, beneath that thought lies a darker realization that we're merely temporary bodies waiting to disappear from this superficial world a world obsessed with materialism, where love, compassion, and genuine human connections seem increasingly scarce.
The magic faded eventually. Initially, I gave significance to the numbers 9 and 12 the date I arrived in Canada, the day I began my first museum job. But beyond those superficial markers, what else genuinely made my life meaningful?
I find these thoughts frightening. Maybe that's why, deep down, I desperately wished to create something magical within myself. Maybe I wanted to escape reality altogether and live in a world alongside Harry, Hermione, and Ron a world where I'd call myself Moshi the Unicorn, or better yet, Moshicorn! I'd walk by, and people would exclaim, "Here comes the unicorn!"
Oh, what a legend I'd be in that imaginary world.