A monologue more filling than a dialogue, a remniscence of special moments, preceded by a closer look at all those everyday moments to sort out the shiny or offbeat ones, and the unfailing inability to choose from them.
The people who walked away and didn't look back, and those who sometimes in a flash of memory, recall and try to reconnect, doesn't the if bother them?
The value of a single contact, a part of one's life is it this transient?
No meaning or foothold is lasting?
Every relationship, one on one and strong, fades away within the span of a few long chats or a lifetime, and its just the doors we chose to knock, what about the routes we didn't take?
Are backward glances and anecdotes the sum total of those heartfelt passionately lived days?
Don't you feel the tug?
Is it wrong not to be able to pull the plug?
These well traversed paths, not just in the lanes of my memory but through photos, letters and cards, a talisman here and a totem there, touched by you and passed on to me.
I roam alone, with these shadow anchors pulling me in but never holding me, allowing the tide to carry me along, but then why is every step such an effort?
With no reflection to match my own,
With no sound in response to that moan..
I float in every direction, untethered, unasked and unthanked.
Attention and adulation, the twin edges of the knife that answers the itch and wounds with scars, as always, added to the dilemma of the boundaries...
A knock now disturbs the staccato of this thought, the haze is clearing and the track is lost.
Maybe it's just this easy, to hold on tight and let go with a thrust, swerving direction from the mind to the mundane.
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