Too long ago was there a feeling of lightness; those moments of laughter and times of joy. Too rare and unfamiliar is a genuine smile from the heart.
Too uncommon is there anyone who would care for the broken.
Everyone embraces the good; bolsters the accomplished.
There are some who subdue evil and fetter the bad.
But the broken remain broken.
Unattended, unnoticed, uncared.
Too long ago.
How bad do I want it?
They kept asking.
I wanted it so badly, but I wasn’t allowed to.
No – because it wasn’t right.
Whose standards, you ask? I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.
And suddenly, there is nothing but defeat. There isn’t anything more than a feeling of nothingness. There is an immense surge of worthlessness, if worthlessness was meant to be something.
And then, that was the end.
How bad do you want it?
Perhaps that wasn’t the right question anymore.
Perhaps the question is: Can you want what you keep wanting, or should you give it up?
That empty field where a rundown building pops up in the middle, without a name. Just some rickety broken barn doors, seemingly abandoned. But wait, a line of cars surround this building.
Oh, it’s a cafe for those who wish for a quiet moment. And it’s beautiful inside.
A church standing at the edge of town. Nobody ever goes there. The good, the bad, the kind, the evil. Nobody ever goes there. But wait, there’s just a few familiar faces who would visit once a year, saying their prayers in light murmurs. The sunlight seeps in through the stained glass windows from high above. There is peace in there.
It’s a different life out there. It’s a different world.
Where people go their own ways and walk their own paths.
Where people don’t judge.
But not everyone can make their way out to this new world.
Would I? Can I? What does it change, when time plays a little trick and put us years behind?
Wrong place, wrong time.
It’s been yet another year that has passed, with little change, little progress, little anything.
That’s what “future” looked like, a year ago.
Ah, the dangers of the festive season. Some see its beauty, others – melancholy.
Do you remember those days when we would set an appointment with friends to meet at a specific time and place?
No. No-one remembers those days.
“What do you mean you won’t have a phone for a few days?”
“How in the world am I going to be able to find you later?”
“Which street, again?”
“What if I can’t make it at this time tomorrow?”
Do we wonder how we used to be able to remember days, dates, places, and directions so much better in the past?
More so – we were once more responsible.
We were more specific – we had to make sure we would see the ones we wished to see.
We were more organised – we planned our day and gave buffer for traveling and traffic.
We were more reliable – it wasn’t as easy as sending a text when we wanted to cancel appointments.
It wasn’t going offline that mattered. It was what the phone and laptops held that mattered. I did not suffer from phone separation technology, though I did get a good lashing from many for going off the grid. But really, how long can we remain offline?
Ah, the dangers of technology…
What did you want?
What did you decide?
What did you expect?
What didn’t you know?
What didn’t you understand?
What didn’t you get?
Some days, when expectations and hopes get high, disappointment strikes hard and misery cripples even the most rational of minds.
it’s been awhile since words were scribbled.
it’s been awhile since the mind worked.
it’s been awhile since the heart could express itself.
but such is life. when things die away, it takes time to get over it.
and sometimes, even time cannot heal.