Alchemy,Dreams, Omens, and Stones
Just recently, I read the book "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho, and I just had to praise the work so much, and much to my expression, I uttered cursing words of regret for not reading it earlier.
I felt I’m too old for dreams. I’m 19 and my high school and the two years of my college life aren’t exactly what I hoped it would be. I found miserable people who lacked discipline and control in their lives. Encountered guides that are foolish, stupid and incompetent. Explored landmarks and places that brood nothing but drowned sadness and exhaled grudges. But in all that, I found worthy friends, valuable lessons, and most prized of all, huge bounds in my intellect and virtues.
Reading the book, I felt my insides churn painfully, and I felt so much regret wash over me. Letting my past rule over me, not letting myself open. Damnit, I’ve cried reading the damn book (and I had to suppress even if I was alone that night), and I realized how much I wanted to be that boy, the shepherd, who explored the world, met the different people, found the woman he loved, and a grand treasure. And i tell you, the book was no fairytale at all.
I believe I could reach that boy, somehow; I have always believed that I was destined for greater things, and that fate is just around me, with that little smirk on her face. I could never have a gypsy to tell my fortune, nor a king to guide me. Not a crystal merchant to give me the ideal salary, nor the alchemist that guide me in the way.
But I believe so much that I could meet someone like them in my lifetime. They’re just out there, waiting for me. And hell, I’ll throw in my wallet for luck.
After all, reading this book seemed to promise a good omen.
And I’m quite sure as I closed this book, my world just got a little bit brighter…
