Segments

Suppose I could only choose one word to sum up my life today. That word would be segments. Without completely understanding why or how the word befits such purpose, it somehow succeeds in bridging the gap between the obvious tangibles and the not-so-obvious intangibles. Just as there are hundreds of genes, each its own complete segments, in a strand of DNA, I have in myself segments of faces, memories, emotions, places, sensations, ideas, beliefs, and virtues. And just as each gene overlaps one another, playing complementary and increasing economy, all those items I've listed, too, overlap. Wondrous and structurally elegant, yet chaotic in its message, these segments speak nothing but puzzles of details. Like a super highway of information, DNA compresses itself into hyper-rationality and in midst of it, like the memories we carry, we lose ourselves in confusion, unable to explain the sequences of our daily encounters. And with constant input from experiences and thoughts, these segments play themselves like a motion picture in a dimensionless space. And like the DNA, continually evolving and reshaping itself, the segments, too, are ever changing but without the grace of time and patience found in Darwin's evolution. These segments are chaotic, and they do not hint sympathy or civility. And as if a penguin attempting to assemble a rocket, I cannot help but to just give up and simply stargaze. But strangely, every time I look up, I cannot help but to feel reinvigorated with a simple wish to fly in space. And so, I get back to working on the impossible rocket. And as I clumsily assemble the piece, I curiously wonder if my DNA too ever felt overwhelmed to build me as if I, the result, was a miracle. Out of the chaotic arrays of segments came out an impossibility, me.