61: about cliffs and blackholes. And dad.

So this is the dark spot in my memory I will begin to carry from this day on.

Not really dark, but more like a cliff; somewhere high up: you are drawn to this wonderful spot overlooking a beautiful horizon, but every step you take you move closer to the edge.

There are nights like this, dad, that little details about you suddenly surface on my memory -

how we fight over you turning on every electric fan in the house, wherever I go and me insisting I don't need it

how I've gotten used to knocking at our gates and you, it was always you opening them for me.

You taking me and my sister out to bike around decades ago.

And recently whenever I set out for our home south, I got fond of rubbing your back before leaving you. Those fragile shoulders.

I remember all these, I cherish all the details. And then I fall off the cliff again, realizing that you are gone, somewhere I can't reach you. I want to talk to you and I am swallowed whole by the idea that I won't hear your voice again.

How long can I remember your voice?

I struggle, I struggle real hard to climb back.

I am so scared that time will take all these away from me.

We miss you already, dad.

60: about the feeeeeeels.

This song. You know that feeling when you read books and you realize you're reading about yourself? Yess this is that same exact feeling. Oooh the feels.

And no this is not about M  (I love that lady to infinity), but about a different thing entirely.  It's just that lately things are being stirred around me, and I am starting to get too caught up with it.  Like you have this favorite big big hardbound book and you havent touched it in a while, and when you do, it's full of dust and the moment you move it all the dust is in the air.

There. I'm in that dusty dusty air point in my life right now, where big things are being moved, and everything is chaotic inside me. I'm just hanging on to the fact/idea that soon things will settle again. I'm at this point where I really dont care if all the dust falls back into place, or the book gets wiped clean.

There. Oooh vague things.

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For the past year or so I've been secretly hiding away from our office during down times, quietly drinking random things in a nearby convenience store. I really liked the place, with the seats along the tinted glass walls. Very perfect spot for people watching. I go there when I'm tired/need a break, need a song, need a space.

Unfortunately that store closed down yesterday. I'm currently processing this one.

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