A strange thing happened to me the other day. It was Friday night and I was spending it like I normally would: alone in my room with half a bottle of wine, a pack of cigarettes and lemongrass scented candles burning serenely in my expensive tea light holders. And like any Friday night, I was too exhausted and stressed from work, suffering from chronic sleep deprivation coupled with mental and physical fatigue to doing anything useful besides stretching out and pouring another glass or flicking a match to light up.
And like any other night, I was calmly thumbing through my myriad amounts of magazines when an advertisement caught my attention and for a brief amount, I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes and wanted to burst out crying. I’m not ashamed to cry but it’s a too emotionally draining activity, so it is something I avoid, but on that night, I felt a surge of sadness and grief trigger by that advertisement.
It was a simple black and white ad that had a profound meaning that struck an accord with me. It featured a man, in his late thirties or early forties lying down next to a boy, around eight or nine years old, presumably his son. They were both gazing at their out stretched hands with their palms touching as though the boy was comparing the size of his hand to his father’s. The warmth, love and admiration that projected from the ad made me want to cry. At that point, I could hear the clock ticking and knew it is time to start being serious if I wanted the things that the people in the ad had.
So serious I am going to become. I am going to put in place the things that need to be done so I can achieve what I desperately crave and up to that point, had unknowingly suppressed into the depths of my soul.
As the ad said, “You never actually own a Patek Phillppe. You merely look after it for the next generation.”
posted by tykang @ 2/10/2006 09:26:00 PM
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