— Hafiz (via perfect)
I haven’t written anything of late- anything meaningful anyway. A part of me is constantly aware of that. But the pen shuns me and the paper forbids that I scrawl across its skin. The emptiness persists.
Some time ago I came across a stream of steady smiles and ripples of laughter. Set against the backdrop of sunshine and blissful storms through the mango tree leaves. I wanted to remain there forever, amongst the tall grasses, skimming my wayward feet along the surface. But the stream moved on. And I could never find it again, I searched. Perhaps it met its end in the dryness of the earth. Or maybe the path led it to valleys more benevolent than the cliffs that had dotted its past. I searched for a way back to those moments. Somehow it seemed to have disappeared by the light of the summer moons. The stream was lost to me, but instead I dipped my ankles in the ocean.
How do we know whether a given moment will be lost in time or preserved in our minds as a memory? How do we create memory? Moreover, how do we know we are creating it? How do we enshrine it in a repeated cognitive frame; images, movements, sounds, smells, tastes, places, feelings?
“How do I remember you in a place we’ve never met?”
one year ago he came across this blog and we “met” for the first time.
The value of human life is much too little in our world. A day’s worth of work was considered more important than the lives of 3000 people. When will this change?
i wish i didn’t have to go to work today. i don’t feel like looking human