Life is so fascinating when you get time to think about it. All these molucules that make up a person that leads to life, that leads to an environment you grow up in, that leads you to be a certain person.
We meet so many different people, who come from different places, who bring us different things, who enhance our lives or rip us bare to a point where we emotionally and physically have to rebuild, never going back to the person you once were.
So many people, walk through our lives, leaving pieces of themselves, taking pieces of you. It'd be interesting to be 900 years old, looking back on your life, things you would have done differently, things you should have done differently, memories fading, idealizing, wishing, wanting.
Some people leave a bigger print than others, where not a day can go by without some random piece of memory that you once thought faded comes back like a slap of cold wind on your face, taking yet another piece of you with it.
How random thoughts, tied up and twisted in memories, come back to haunt at the most inopportune time.
I remember things, from first loves, to last loves, to lasting loves. How someone looked jumping off the cliff into the cold water at midnight. How people looked sleeping, what they smelled like, tasted like, felt like. Different moods, different smiles, certain looks. You pack some of the physical memories away. The DMB t-shirt from the summer 2003 tour. You don't sleep in it anymore. It's in a box. But sometimes you lay awake at night remembering what a person looked like in it.
Life. So very random to us, yet we're mere pawn pieces in a bigger game. There really is no such thing as goodbye.
We meet so many different people, who come from different places, who bring us different things, who enhance our lives or rip us bare to a point where we emotionally and physically have to rebuild, never going back to the person you once were.
So many people, walk through our lives, leaving pieces of themselves, taking pieces of you. It'd be interesting to be 900 years old, looking back on your life, things you would have done differently, things you should have done differently, memories fading, idealizing, wishing, wanting.
Some people leave a bigger print than others, where not a day can go by without some random piece of memory that you once thought faded comes back like a slap of cold wind on your face, taking yet another piece of you with it.
How random thoughts, tied up and twisted in memories, come back to haunt at the most inopportune time.
I remember things, from first loves, to last loves, to lasting loves. How someone looked jumping off the cliff into the cold water at midnight. How people looked sleeping, what they smelled like, tasted like, felt like. Different moods, different smiles, certain looks. You pack some of the physical memories away. The DMB t-shirt from the summer 2003 tour. You don't sleep in it anymore. It's in a box. But sometimes you lay awake at night remembering what a person looked like in it.
Life. So very random to us, yet we're mere pawn pieces in a bigger game. There really is no such thing as goodbye.
Labels: Go Oilers Go, I love Ryan Smyth, Obama 2008
About me
- Grace
- British Columbia, Canada
- jealous, insecure,narcissistic, paranoid, and delusional
- My profile