Past is a land where everything grows. An untarnished memory means there is abundance in that land-- memory proliferates and throws out like branches, leaves, seeds, objects which call to us, seemingly real and pure, unaffected by any of the ravages of life.
Y came back to my place tonight after a party. I was half-asleep but woke up to ask how it had gone and what he shared was like a flood. A medium he had met at the party had told him many things, much of it about his past. The way he still is caught up in his last relationship, what she meant, who she was, the betrayal--all of these seem to come to him again and again through encounters with this medium and others. Listening to him speak was like a gut-punch, like I do not exist in his life, like I do not matter beyond this sliver of life where he shares things with me in the middle of the night-- a traveller meeting a stationary point on his journey.
An utterly painful feeling hurts my head, forms a tight knot in my stomach, brings tears to my eyes. I feel ripped and a sick urge flashes through me-- an urge to go back to my past loves-- maybe S-- or take refuge in the feelings I had for K-- rip open the hole of Memory and Time so I could rest somewhere, have something to take shelter in from the pain of the present reality. But the past is only a land for those who want to escape the present. I no longer do. So, I almost run out of bed, the words tumbling to the edge of my brain and pick up the pen to write,
Now that it's done, I feel relieved.
Everything dies. Even love, no matter how new.
Everything that happens in this Universe is a play of melody and rhythm(time). It's the Dance of Shiva. Everything & Everyone is just dancing to This rhythm n melody like the waves of the ocean. Even the Stars and the Planets & U & ur Feelings...