Friday, May 7, 2010

My Own

The other day, a friend of mine asked what is my belief, my religion. He is a very well-spoken man who has such considerably good opinions about things, investing himself with great experiences and life-changing decisions.

He had abandoned religion and takes a refuge on the concept of other form of affirmation of faith.

The sudden rush of harsh drops of rain forced us to move into the table on the far right corner of the small wooden-dominated eatery. My mind was sort of confused of his bothering good elaborated theory of Christianity and the all-religion-are-the-same. I am absolutely not agree with that but the main course that I just ate made me wanted jump to my own bed and called it a day. 

He then asked me why I keep on clinging into Christianity, or, sort of. I sanked back in my seat, gave him a  smile while raking my mind for good reasoning, not for excuses. I looked at him munching on his food, there were another three tables with customers, all of them must be over their 30es or older.

'I need to have something to hold on to,' I said after the brief silence, 'I need to belong to something and it is exactly the same reason with my pursuit for love,' I looked at his eyes, expecting some approval. 

'You know, I had tried to strip off of my belief back in the univ years,' my eyes were still fixed at his face, wishing I had never told him this far, 'I basically just need something, a sort of assurance as well as a measure of what is right and good things to do for my own good, you know.'

But for the rest of the night, I hardly listen to whatever he said nor to the wild crickets and the hissing sound of the rain and wind, my mind was stuck in the circle of thoughts about being belong to someone, to something I can call my own.