Culture, experience, life, Random, roads

Of Memories And Moving On

A memory. It’s like sand, brittle rock — a shard of the original substance, a snapshot in a long and confusing movie, a particle of space and time. It’s minuscule but it lingers. It will swallow you up if you let it. It’s like going on a fast, you feel satisfied at first, but you always end up starving.

You can explain a memory to someone, but you can’t make them feel it. You can’t describe how your heart skips a beat when a certain someone looks deeply into your eyes. You can’t recreate the overwhelming content that rushes over when you win after losing for so long. You can’t explain the adrenaline surging through when you are on a roller coaster.

We all get frustrated when we romanticize the past. We miss the things we’ve lost, the places we’ve left, and the people we used to be. We miss the times that were familiar, and we long for the moments that have gone by. But you can’t live through memories, and you don’t grow by being comfortable. You have to fail before you can dream, and you have to hurt before you can love. You must bleed for the wound to heal, but eventually you need to slap on a band-aid and get on with your life.

And that’s what I try to do.

A memory: I was drowning.
And then I learned how to swim.
Towards a brighter future.

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experience, life, Poetry, world

Sands of Time

Standing,
By herself along
Soothing,
Melodies of a song
Refusing,
Visions of the past
Breaking,
The wicked spell cast
Rejoicing,
At the rays of dawn
Painting,
Images of hope upon
Believing,
In happiness sublime
Moving,
On with the sands of time