Its one of those days where I feel my mind being completely restless. I can feel the tension in my body as it paces up and down the narrow corridor lined with memories. Its looking for something, or wishing for something, I cannot decipher what it wants. All I know is that there is a sudden sense of longing and reminiscence.
The feelings make me feel old. I suddenly feel like so much has changed in such little time that it feels like decades ago when things were easier. My being craves for that senseless chatter in corridors trying to catch glimpses of winter sun, it craves for those days when it was so much easier to shake off a bad feeling. Somehow it feels like we've lost out on eachother, and I can't help but feel like I am no longer capable of mending a bridge.
As the tornado of these memories rushes through me, I feel like I'm stuck in some parallel universe which thrives on dilemma. I know not where to go, or whom to call when I've lost my way. Faces seem to be fading in my mind and relationships seem to just linger with a lost scent. Words lie here forgotten and promises of bonds remain tangled in the woes of daily life.
At some point in this text, I feel like I'm whining. Like I'm trying to make it seem like my life is miserable, it's not. That old 'Emo' version, as some would joke, has died away with time. I don't feel like the old version of myself, injuries and immunity issues aside. Its like another form of evolution. Time forces you to adapt to the environment around you and to cope with change, and one must learn to embrace the ticking of the clock. Granted that most of us have more tomorrows left than yesterdays, but those yesterdays cannot be forgotten as they define who we are today.
The whirlwinds of old flames and relationships and places are like old oil paintings, the frames are chipping and the paint is peeling off. And yet in its dishevelled face, there is still beauty. There is always an underlying likeability to everything, finding it makes accepting it easier.
I am walking down memory lane, and right now I do feel a little like a silly teenage girl feeling bad about who didn't call or what party I missed or why she's mad at me. At this juncture, the older version of me is saying that there are more important things than worrying, but I cannot help but do so (part of this problem may be genetic). The old days may have been fun, the new days far tougher, and yet somehow its the mixture of these two drastic sides of our lives that have culminated to make us into personalities.
Maybe today I am stuck in reverse and I miss old faces and people. I just hope tomorrow I can embrace the fact that maybe some of those faces are fading and there are new ones around, not to replace the old but to enrich me in whatever way they can. Life has changed, this fact just needs to be accepted...
