Moments, fragments, stills in time. Lately I find myself caught in the pull of a sad nostalgia, of words left unsaid or people almost forgotten. My mind flashes with colours and countries, the smells of incense lingering from younger days spent inside, or the hum of busy cities I once lived and loved in. I dream of faraway places, as I feel so faraway from here, from me. I cry in the understanding of accepting averageness, and realising sometimes you settle for less than you want or need because, well, you can’t even remember how you got here.
Moments, fragments, stills in time. Lately I find myself under water, struggling for air, not sure if I’m being held down, or holding myself down. Choking. Bleeding. Barely breathing. I see my life in chunks, with an emotion attached to each chunk, each moment in time, linked. I get overwhelmed by how fast life passes, how I thought I would be someone and somewhere completely opposed to where I am now. It’s like I am regressing and not progressing, and that makes my throat tight, my throat feels as though it’s been tight for a year, like I’m about to burst, a jack in the box almost popped.
Moments, fragments, stills in time. Lately I find myself wondering if its okay to move on from the person I used to be, and slip into someone else. Whether that person is better, or worse, or neither of those and who knows unless we have retrospect anyway? Stomach churning, a clenching jaw, feeling like I’m the worst person in the room. Hating the sound of my own voice. Where did my confidence go? Or maybe it’s right here, and I shouldn’t listen to the lies I cast myself, we all know our mind isn’t the source of truth, in many ways it’s our worst enemy.
Moments, fragments, stills in time. Lately I find myself searching for something more, for my inner truth, the calm to speak my word, not be afraid and live happily. I search for kindness, listening ears, a strong heart and palms that give; my own. With this searching for more, I wonder if I am continually living in an unknown future, and missing the point of just being here, existing now, smiling, even if it doesn’t feel honest yet. I know I am moving toward more experiences, but I can’t help but miss and yearn for the experiences I’ve already had, and for the people I no longer have.
I’m just trying to be here, now, and stop worrying. To let go, encourage new pursuits, be unafraid to fail and laugh at my embarrassing humanness. I want to let people know they mean a lot, I want my children to know I tried my best and always saw the beauty in things. Always tried my hardest.
I guess at the end of our lives, and with death the only thing we know that’s true and certain, we want to remember that we enjoyed life, and ultimately left a mark on others, that we impacted someones life enough that they see us when they play that final loop before they close their eyes forever. And we see them too.
