Jul 2016
You can't help but run your fingers over the pages you've touched before.
Words and pictures that don't mean the same thing when you first placed them on the paper. You marvel at how you're always so invested in the now that you can't remember where your head was at back then. And even though you always say that everyday feels the same, you are so different from who you were then. You were aching, you were happy, you were nostalgic, you were angry, you were anything but what you are now. You can't remember writing those words but you remember the feeling. And you couldn't put into words how you've changed but you can feel it. You look at the words you wrote down and you feel them, again. It's different this time, you are reacting to them instead of feeling them. It's so odd, isn't it? The words you once wrote, the paintings you once made, are no longer you. They are a part of who you were, and even if you feel the same as you did then, they are a part of the then. As soon as you put it down on the table, as soon as you walk away from it, it is a part of the then. And now, now you have either reinforced those feelings, or you have changed. Either way, things have happened. Things kept moving, even though you never think about that. We think to the future but do you really ever think about how things just keep going? Things, life, tragedy, miracles, they all keep coming at you like a car racing towards you as you sit in the middle of the highway. It doesn't stop, it doesn't slow, it doesn't speed up. The driver's foot is steady. You never think your mind is going to change and grow as much as it does but it happens everyday, right under your nose. But for now you are here again. In the same spot you once were, holding in your hands a paper that was once blank with an idea in your head. Today you create more. Tomorrow it will be a part of the then. And tomorrow you will do the same and the day after that it will be a part of the then. And in time, just when the meaning of the words or the drawing or the music has slipped your mind for good, you find it again and you listen and you feel the paper you held a long time ago and you feel who you once were. And you'll turn off the music, and you'll put the paper back down, you'll close your eyes, and you'll forget. And this will become your next then.
Words and pictures that don't mean the same thing when you first placed them on the paper. You marvel at how you're always so invested in the now that you can't remember where your head was at back then. And even though you always say that everyday feels the same, you are so different from who you were then. You were aching, you were happy, you were nostalgic, you were angry, you were anything but what you are now. You can't remember writing those words but you remember the feeling. And you couldn't put into words how you've changed but you can feel it. You look at the words you wrote down and you feel them, again. It's different this time, you are reacting to them instead of feeling them. It's so odd, isn't it? The words you once wrote, the paintings you once made, are no longer you. They are a part of who you were, and even if you feel the same as you did then, they are a part of the then. As soon as you put it down on the table, as soon as you walk away from it, it is a part of the then. And now, now you have either reinforced those feelings, or you have changed. Either way, things have happened. Things kept moving, even though you never think about that. We think to the future but do you really ever think about how things just keep going? Things, life, tragedy, miracles, they all keep coming at you like a car racing towards you as you sit in the middle of the highway. It doesn't stop, it doesn't slow, it doesn't speed up. The driver's foot is steady. You never think your mind is going to change and grow as much as it does but it happens everyday, right under your nose. But for now you are here again. In the same spot you once were, holding in your hands a paper that was once blank with an idea in your head. Today you create more. Tomorrow it will be a part of the then. And tomorrow you will do the same and the day after that it will be a part of the then. And in time, just when the meaning of the words or the drawing or the music has slipped your mind for good, you find it again and you listen and you feel the paper you held a long time ago and you feel who you once were. And you'll turn off the music, and you'll put the paper back down, you'll close your eyes, and you'll forget. And this will become your next then.
