Are we moving pictures,
Silhouettes that float
Against the backdrop of the unknowable?
We try so hard to remember
And yet we’ve forgotten some of our stories,
Lost episodes whose fragments float aimlessly
As echoes in outer space.
When they’re heard,
If they’re heard,
I wonder if it will quicken the listener’s pulse
Or have we been so lucky to be one among few
To know of what words can do to the heart?
So I turn 23 today, apparently.
It’s been a few years since I’ve written one of these self reflective pieces so I think I’ll give it a go this year.
Where am I at? I’m not quite sure. I remember saying something similar last time I wrote one of these. I wonder if it means I’ve not made any progress. I feel that much has changed but in such a way that nothing seems to have. I feel calm tonight and not even the sweltering heat of the Middle Eastern summer makes me feel restless. I’d like to think that this is due to song I’ve been listening to today.
It’s one that I saved to my playlist quite a while ago but today I decided to hear it again. It’s called “The Long Way” by this Irish band called The Coronas. I don’t know what it is about it but it’s the type of song that makes you feel nostalgic about the future. Is that even possible? When I listen to it I see myself, aged and grey, still trying my best to walk ahead of the people in front of me but I also see someone walking beside me. And somehow this memory, that doesn’t exist yet, transitions to a cool night where the wind is a temperature that’s kind to my skin and yours, whoever you are.
Maybe we’ll make a bonfire, who knows?
Where do you hide
All that makes you unhappy?
What thick skin must you have
To shield yourself from the wrong
That life throws at you?
Have you never scored any cuts that sting
As lemon juice was spilled your way?
You are something, I have never seen before.
Someone who seems unstoppable, undeterred and unyielding.
Teach me if you can how to put aside
All misery and only smile
At all the stories it brings.
Now and then I wash upon
The shores of untold stories,
Begging to be told.
And as I crashed
Upon this sandy shore
Of a broken pair of lovers
I tried my best to cling onto
And grab as mains grains as I could.
Before the waves pulled me back again
And the story faded away.
All stories are sad,
Even the most cheerful ones,
If no one hears them.
To everyone I have told stories to 🙂
I hope I have touched you in your heart and not in a way that everyone else believes to be more fulfilling.
The physicality of an action sometimes ruins the moments shared and there is more remembrance in the things our ears hear and our hearts feel.
I pray that the way I have touched you lives in your memories forever and the way our souls touched gave in to all that was inside our hearts, all which was hidden.
You know I’ll be out there looking for others and making their souls cross mine.
Trying to recreate the same effect that I created with you.