Lo(o)se

Using some sand, you begin to create something. You want to create something sturdy, something that lasts. You want this to stay by your side, and you won’t ever lose sight of it.

At first, it’s still crumbly and unstable. But you keep on adding the same material. Soon, it began to take some kind of form, some kind of shape. You’re beginning to see it getting near your end goal; you can imagine the finished product in your hands. And all you have to do is keep building it.

Complications arise. The sand doesn’t seem strong enough. You begin mixing in other things, hoping that at least one of the substances you use will make it stick, will make it work. You hope that being resourceful will help you finish your creation.

It looks like it’s working. You can see its form again. You think that you’re on the right track, and that you just have to keep doing the same thing over and over again.

Something’s wrong, though. Since you’re using other materials now, the form isn’t as perfect as you want it to be. It’s got some edges that you don’t want and smooth sides you want rough. The form is slowly becoming something else, something that you don’t want. You weren’t able to foresee this; you were too blinded by your end goal.

Yet you still continue. You think that maybe it’s because you’re still in the process of building it. Maybe after a few more adds, it will start to look like the creation you wanted it to be. Maybe it will become more beautiful than what you imagined.

You’re near the supposed end of your creation, yet it still looks nothing like what you wanted it to be. It’s still the same, imperfect thing. Yet you still continue. You think that having this is better than having nothing. You continue with your work, despite there having an uneasiness with it.

You finish it. You’ve created something! It doesn’t look like anything you wanted it to be, though. You’re starting to think that maybe you went wrong somewhere, you missed a spot. You start taking your creation apart.

You remove all the other materials that you added midway. You’re thinking that maybe it’s because I only need to use the one material I wanted. You keep on removing more things.

You’ve then removed every other thing, and now you’re left with only the first material you used: sand. You think that you can continue on from here. You start building again.

The sand isn’t as strong as it used to be. It crumbles every now and then at certain parts, and you have to keep on repairing it. You think that this might be the cause of using other materials. You make a mental note to not use those anymore, because they were not helpful to you.

After more attempts at building, you find a way to force it into how you want it to look. You start making it more clumped together, so as to make it seem solid and sturdy. Eventually, you finish your creation again.

Now it looks like what you want it to be! You place it on some surface to admire it. It looks like what you want it to be. It looks great.

Then it starts to crumble again. You panic and clasp it in your hands, away from the surface. You hold it in your hands and squeeze it in-between, hoping it will stay solid longer. Yet the more you do that, the more it deteriorates. You loosen your grip. You see it now as a mess.

You start to wonder why you made this in the first place. You don’t remember your initial reason. You might have even forgotten what your originally wanted it to be, changing it every time a complication was met. You think it’s a failed creation. You cannot put it back together.

You’ve started to let go. Your grip isn’t as tight as it used to be. The form has now disintegrated, passing through your fingers. Soon after, only little tidbits remain on the palm of your hand.

Are those enough to still call it what it is? What it was?

Was it worth the effort? Or was it all for nothing?

Are you just pushing yourself too much? Maybe it’s not that bad? You still had a chance to create, you can do it again!

As you think of how to make it again, you notice that the sand at your feet isn’t the same sand that you let go. The other sand has been already washed by the waves near the shore. It has mixed with the rest of the beach, where it belongs.

Maybe you were just too ambitious. You can’t make sturdy things using sand. They crumble in the end of everything.

You start to walk away, having nothing.