Through It All

it seems to me, that i am suspended somewhere in Time and the clock turns in the same fragmented circles.

everywhere around me, things turn yellow, crusty brown, and fall apart, crumbling into infinite pieces. flowers bloom spring colours, and then wither gently, quietly. buildings once occupied, now lie abandoned and dusty and forgotton. and in the midst of all these, people come, they breathe life, play, laugh, cry, sleep; once the sun sets, they move on to their next stop, bidding their farewells which were already there with their first hellos.

when i close my eyes, i see the same pictures of memories. his smiling face, her gentle hug, their boisterous laughter, promises that were inscripted in my mind’s eye, schools where i used to go to, places i used to frequent. sometimes, it almost feels as if things come alive again; the pulse on my wrist jumps once more, the second hand of the clock starts ticking, and the ice melts away, allowing me to see, hear, touch, feel.

truly being here is so much; because everything here apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way keeps calling to us. us, the most fleeting of all.

but i wake and the images become blurry, soft like a dream, yet sharp and stinging. and i know that i am holding on to people who have once been around, clinging on to words that were once said, reliving moments that have once happened. everything have already slipped by, silently like the sand in the wind. and me, i am left standing among everyone and everything, yet apart and alone.

many years from now, will i still be waiting here, wishing for a world that i once belonged to?


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