I'm currently working on a novel and I was attempting to get rid of writer's block; therefore I decided to take a break and write about another random topic to boost up my writing skills. This is the result of that exercise. :D
Enjoy! Reviews pwease? :P
The start of a new life is beautiful. The mother pushes out the baby and it breathes its first sigh of relief into life, in the form of a cry.
The start of a new person is also beautiful. It is a human being, finding themselves, telling themselves that they will redefine themselves and become better this time around.
The start of a new love is also beautiful. While the seeds of interest spring in a person's heart, they slowly become consumed by the idea of spending all their life with another human being. Their hearts will in due time unite in love and then gradually fall apart, but not right now, and all that exists for a lover is the present. Maybe, if they are lucky, they will not fall apart. But someday either or both of them will feel a plug in their hearts, knowing that it will never be the same as when they fell in love for the first time.
The start of a spring, bringing forward the first flower of the season. The start of a new summer, the times when popularity is carried towards the beaches and the warmth of a blazing sun. The start of another autumn, when the beaches are forgotten and the trees' leaves come in different tones of auburn or chocolate. The start of a winter, made up of white pathways, carrot-nosed snowpeople and playing children—a faint reminisce of the sun still hanging on up in the sky.
Maybe it's a child's first year, their very first cycle of seasons, which they won't remember in years to come but they will have the photographs to prove they lived to see it. Or perhaps this cycle belongs to a person, a person who redefined themselves and removed their rose-colored glasses to observe the true uniqueness of this world. Or maybe it is a no longer newly-formed couple's first year, a reminder that they are still going strong. Maybe they spent their whole year in the rooftop of a small coffee shop at a far-off street in the city; maybe they held hands through the days and gazed at the stars at night.
Starts are reminders that things can change, things can evolve. Things will not stand still; but we must embrace new beginnings, and remember our starts—our beginnings in these intrinsic paths that we call our lives.