Melancholic Derivations

January 21, 2006

Imprints Of Consciousness

It's been raining intermittently for the past few days, not quite like last week where it rained for days in continuity. And it's on these rainy days on the bus where the mind begins to wander, to times lost and forgotten. The intermittent nature of the rain mirroring the turmoil of the soul beneath the facade, that of sporadic sorrow and at best, mellow contentedness. I've been feeling much like that, and it's strange to think how assured I felt merely months ago.

I've been trying my best to recover from what's been a crippling blow and to my credit, I'm succeeding gradually. But it's funny to see how things come more into perspective when you're not quite so embroiled in the situation but watching from a retrospective point of view. Thoughts come into your mind; could I have done this different? Why did I make that mistake? Why was I so foolish? But after awhile you realise that everything ever done has merely been a drop in the ocean of eternity. Fate, if you would call it that. And so life moves on, steady and gradual in its unceasing spiral towards nothingness.

I'm beginning to appreciate the friends I have around me more now. The people who've come and said a kind word or even given me a pat on the back, thank you really. I think it's people like these who give you courage to continue, to persevere on the race of life. But I suppose you can only recover so much, somehow someway, you're still scarred and changed forever. Perhaps in that sense I am, and just like the imprints of memories lodged in my psyche, they'll be there till the day I'm gone.

I can never forget that afternoon on Swanston Street, when I gazed into your deep brown eyes and saw the future laid out. And just as we were so engrossed, the sun seemed to be like a flash from a photographer; recording that moment in the sands of time.

Traveller fell apart at 1:23 PM


	Now Spinning Heroes Theme - Heroes Soundtrack The Protagonist joel \| content \| driven \| focused \| motive-oriented \| cynical \| analytical \| God-fearing \| jaded \| Frequent Reads Ben Christie Christine Davina Eugene Jasmine Jeremy Jo-ann Kay-Lene Mac Tammy Vivek Past Rants January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 Tap My Shoulder		January 21, 2006 Imprints Of Consciousness It's been raining intermittently for the past few days, not quite like last week where it rained for days in continuity. And it's on these rainy days on the bus where the mind begins to wander, to times lost and forgotten. The intermittent nature of the rain mirroring the turmoil of the soul beneath the facade, that of sporadic sorrow and at best, mellow contentedness. I've been feeling much like that, and it's strange to think how assured I felt merely months ago. I've been trying my best to recover from what's been a crippling blow and to my credit, I'm succeeding gradually. But it's funny to see how things come more into perspective when you're not quite so embroiled in the situation but watching from a retrospective point of view. Thoughts come into your mind; could I have done this different? Why did I make that mistake? Why was I so foolish? But after awhile you realise that everything ever done has merely been a drop in the ocean of eternity. Fate, if you would call it that. And so life moves on, steady and gradual in its unceasing spiral towards nothingness. I'm beginning to appreciate the friends I have around me more now. The people who've come and said a kind word or even given me a pat on the back, thank you really. I think it's people like these who give you courage to continue, to persevere on the race of life. But I suppose you can only recover so much, somehow someway, you're still scarred and changed forever. Perhaps in that sense I am, and just like the imprints of memories lodged in my psyche, they'll be there till the day I'm gone. I can never forget that afternoon on Swanston Street, when I gazed into your deep brown eyes and saw the future laid out. And just as we were so engrossed, the sun seemed to be like a flash from a photographer; recording that moment in the sands of time. Traveller fell apart at 1:23 PM