Have you ever feel like there’s something inside you, buried deep beneath like a fluttery butterfly coming out of its cocoon? Its repeated echo is tapping on your conscious mind, repeatedly and persistently until at one point you can no longer pretend to be invincible to its acute presence.
Reading Ahmad Wahib’s Pergolakan Pemikiran Islam and listening to Butterfinger’s Mati Hidup Kembali (Alive After Death) at the same time takes me back to all those times of questioning and pondering. The days of not knowing and being frustrated at knowing I’ll not always find the answer. Despite all the confusions, I never want to get so caught up with my ordinary life and forget those moments. The moments which shaped my choice, my turn of events, the metamorphosis which brought up my being. No, I never want to forget it, I never wish to leave it. I want to be the adult who still questions, the old who still challenges.
Today I discussed about God’s presence with a friend, oh how sometimes I am scrambling in the dark looking for His hands. I feel so close yet so distant from Him sometimes. I feel like I am being held at an arm length, touched by God but never fully embraced by Him. It’s a question of faith, a question of me believing in His nearness. It’s the question of my chaotic soul.
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