Visited the mental play ground this evening and sat on my favorite mood swing. Going up, screaming at everyone was fun for a while, but the ride down was so swift…before I knew it, my feet touched the sand and I sat there, all alone, swaying… swaying…
Experience made me empathetic. I used to feel really bewildered at why people can’t just jump off the swing. When I was young and strong and fearless, I would just leap off. Never mind scraping my knees. Now I’m like lead. Now I know how hard it is when the will seems only to be able to exist after one’s death.
Experience made me less arrogant. It took two to make me realize that sometimes, supposed grownups can’t control time span. Much less late teens… I’m duly humbled and ashamed.
Experience made me scared of myself. Coz without divine intervention, my thoughts and what I would like to do can be alarmingly self-destructive. It’s time to sleep and the lights are supposed to be off but I just want to flick the switch on and off, on and off, on and off…until the bulb fuses and goes “Pop!” My fly-away thoughts scare me.
Separate the narrator from the author. But how wonderful it would be if we love the ones who are trying to forget us instead of the ones whom we’re trying to forget…
Did I mention that my wallet is full of rubbish? Little slips of sweet nothings, receipts that document spent money and time, keepsakes… that are really very small things but they just add up. So everyday, I lug around a burdened wallet…
At some point in time though, memories lose that pathos and put on the thick, foreign cloak of nostalgia. And I spoke to clouds that have drifted past, discussed the shade it provides now… today, it is shade to me and no longer shadow.
It’s a cloudy day.
Experience made me empathetic. I used to feel really bewildered at why people can’t just jump off the swing. When I was young and strong and fearless, I would just leap off. Never mind scraping my knees. Now I’m like lead. Now I know how hard it is when the will seems only to be able to exist after one’s death.
Experience made me less arrogant. It took two to make me realize that sometimes, supposed grownups can’t control time span. Much less late teens… I’m duly humbled and ashamed.
Experience made me scared of myself. Coz without divine intervention, my thoughts and what I would like to do can be alarmingly self-destructive. It’s time to sleep and the lights are supposed to be off but I just want to flick the switch on and off, on and off, on and off…until the bulb fuses and goes “Pop!” My fly-away thoughts scare me.
Separate the narrator from the author. But how wonderful it would be if we love the ones who are trying to forget us instead of the ones whom we’re trying to forget…
Did I mention that my wallet is full of rubbish? Little slips of sweet nothings, receipts that document spent money and time, keepsakes… that are really very small things but they just add up. So everyday, I lug around a burdened wallet…
At some point in time though, memories lose that pathos and put on the thick, foreign cloak of nostalgia. And I spoke to clouds that have drifted past, discussed the shade it provides now… today, it is shade to me and no longer shadow.
It’s a cloudy day.
cLoUd DriFteD bY @ Tuesday, April 26, 2005 |
0 comments
