stranger than fiction

Today was the day of highs and lows.

Started with my 3-hour pre-exam sleep, woke up to the usual alarm from my phone, took a midterm, went back to take a nap, went for my group project, finished my project paper, grabbed a sandwich and some fruits for lunch, went to work, did push-ups to entertain my co-workers, refilled the office water cooler, argued and troubleshooted with a punk rock musician who wanted to establish and raise awareness about an online music collaboration client, left work.

And then exhaustion set in, I went to bed once more, woke up and watched Pardon the Interruption on ESPN, made dinner, watched 3 minutes of the Knicks game on TV, pondered about life, watched Stephen Chow's God of Cookery (Why I did it, I do not know), did my laundry.

And just as everything would be as mundane, as expected, as mediocre as it normally would, something unexpected happened.

Just as I was waiting for my laundry to finish up, I decided to watch a Will Ferrell movie. Anchorman, Talladega Nights, Blades of Glory... all comedies. But this time, I got more than just laughs. I found a movie that was not your typical Will Ferrell witty comedy, but something that made me think, made me smile, made me appreciate this life so much more.

How sometimes maybe I feel that I'm playing too much by the rules of this world, maybe there's something that I'm really missing. Maybe I'm going merely by the way my own stereotype of myself predicts I should be and act. Conformity, I believe it's called.

That movie was Stranger Than Fiction. And no Fred Astaire movie, no Stephen Chow, no Samuel L. Jackson got me captivated for the entire 2 hours.

I know I may sound like I'm on my own little lofty cloud right now. I might be, and one day I might look back and wince at the naivety, the outpouring of emotion or the lack of logic that this post constitutes.

But I'm sure of one thing. We serve a merciful God. Even though our lives are meant to be written for us to wither away, or pay for our sins, He is merciful that even us, in our mere human form, is heard by Him, the Author of our lives, and we are given a second chance, a third chance.

A thirty sixth chance.

A seventy seven times seven-th chance.

And for that, I am forever grateful.

If you knew that your life was in the hands of the greatest Poet, why try to live any other way?

I'M OUT!!!