As of yesterday, I seem to cry at the drop of a hat. A sniff of familiarity, a sensation of the old, a sense of deja vu of the past and I'm dissolved to tears that flow with this thick wetness that can only mean that I am hurting.
Hurting for the lost moments and the comfort that is now miles away from me.
Is this fair? On me and the comfort?
It's a question that I will ask him.
Sometimes I can't stand to open my closet (whiffs of familiarity) and other times I open it for the very reason that it gives me the comfort that is now not with me.
How ironic we are when we lose something we still have. Our beings are suspended somewhere between fear and intuitiveness and finding the balance is often impossible. It's either extreme or none.
And right now, I prefer an extreme till my comfort helps me find the balance.
How do I judge the future and what is about to happen?
I can't. That's the fuck-up.
I can only depend on time and the events that take place in between.
Time -- sometimes I feel that it's just meaningless.
How unfair it is that we have only Time to depend on for what we want.
I can only hope that it works in my favor.
I'm missing too much all of a sudden. I feel a bit empty... or maybe half full?
Yes, I think it's the latter.
I still have what I want and need... I've just soaked up and given some away to the myths and currents of time.
I'll fill it up again. I'll pour that glass we made with my own hands and pour into it the emotions from my heart and the thoughts from my mind.
But I hope the moment comes soon.
Sooner than soon.
I don't want to wait too long.
--Transparent illusions and suspended emotions
Looking back at the moments, the thoughts and the visions.
I feel the warmth and dread the cold
The day we fall and everything seems old.
Our words shall be written and said aloud
We'll hold them in our hearts and our minds they shall shroud.
Come back fast, soon and safe
We'll prove to them that for us, the world is made.