Pausing a little while to catch my breath, I somehow found myself looking backwards to where I had been camping for the past few months after a bad case of poisoning. 23 miles, that's how far I've covered so far from my little corner.
When I was kid, I never felt I had done anything right in my life, everything that passed were filled with regrets and sorrow. Very often I would pray in quiet tears, in hope that time will turn around and let me pay for my mistakes, to allow me to take back the pain I have unintentedly dealt to the people whom I love. Many many times, I recalled I used hurt myself real bad in desperate attempts to climb back up...when I can't.
Rubbing my eyes a little, looking downhill and thought to myself, "This time, it's different. I don't know how...I just know it..." Smiling, confident, I rechecked my equipment making sure I got everything I needed, because I somehow expected this hike down would be a rather long one albeit rough. I've learned not to regret what in whatever I do, not because I have truly learned to ignore the excruciating emotion of total loss, but because I learned that if I were to put my heart and soul into what I do with the right intentions, with a selfless attitude that even should I fail, I wouldn't regret. While I am still uncertain if this trip would be a successful one, this time I have everything I need and for like the first time I felt optimistic...
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As he continued downhill in search for his passion, he left something behind. It was a huge black bag, made of very old canvas...
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