I have seen this before: the rush, the noise, the crowd moving like one restless wave. It feels like when Taylor Swift releases something new and suddenly everyone runs, lines form, timelines overflow, hearts beat faster for a moment that feels urgent, almost necessary. And then, just as quickly, it fades.
We are drawn to what is loud, but we struggle to stay with what is quiet. We do this in life. We present our best selves, polished words, strong impressions, chasing approval. We get accepted, we arrive, and somewhere along the way, the effort dissolves. What remains is a softer truth we rarely admit. I hear it in Banal Na Aso Santong Kabayo, that uncomfortable mirror reminding us how easy it is to become what we once criticized.
I remember a food kiosk in Lanang, once surrounded by long lines and bright attention. People waited, laughed, took photos as if it mattered deeply. Weeks later, it stood quiet, almost invisible. No lines, no urgency, just a trace of what used to be. And I ask myself, are we like that? Do we only burn when others are watching?
That is why I hesitate. I am tired of things that begin with excitement and end with forgetting. I want something that stays. Something that demands commitment, not just curiosity. That is why I choose the slow and steady. The rhythm of basketball, the silence of chess, the discipline of long distance running, the grip of a worn tennis racket, the climb of a mountain where every step asks if you are willing to continue. Pickleball feels like a passing moment. And I am searching for something that endures.
But then there is her. My office crush, with her long hair moving gently as she walks, like time slows just enough to notice. If she asks me to play, maybe I will say yes. Not because of the game, not because of the trend, but because she is someone I could see myself choosing, not just for a moment, but with intention.
Still, even that has its truth. I do not want to show up halfway. If I step into that space, it is not to follow a fleeting feeling. It is to commit, to mean it, to stay. Otherwise, I would rather not begin at all. Because in the end, life is brief. And I no longer want to spend it chasing noise that fades. I want something steady, something real, something that remains even when the crowd is gone. And if that kind of connection is not there, then I will let the game pass me by, and choose a life that knows how to stay.
