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