“and the air was
full of Thoughts and Things to Say. But at times like these, only the Small
Things are ever said. Big Things lurk unsaid inside.”
--arundhati roy
i sat down to
write this ritualistically
with pen and
paper
to only remember
i don't have your new address.
i am listening to
arcade fire,
which of late
has become my new
soul stirrer.
for me it
releases the hormones of
utter love,
despair, hope and
general
exhaustion at the incredible emotions that can
whisk us into
being,
into being human.
it's so tiring to
live life in its entirety;
but it is that
concrete filled sack of fatigued bones
and that sleepy
eye lid twinge
that satisfies
that allows this
decaying body to sink into inspired peace.
its all of the
above i feel now.
its all of the
above that i felt
on sunday night
when i sat on r's
bed
and watched him
read out
a letter/card you
wrote to him from india,
when he had just
returned to nz.
the tiny writing,
the revelation,
the regret,
the inspiration.
the paths of
pursuit;
the microcosm of
tolstoy
the warm embrace
his writing gave/gives you.
the stirrings.
i was held
captive
controlled by the
power of your thought,
the selfless
pursuit for a better being,
the demeaning
ways upon yourself;
the ideals.
oh, the ideals.
and deep within
me,
when i saw a
solitary tear glisten down r's cheek
i realised just
how much i wanted to know you more.
how i wanted to
talk about all these things
you mentioned in
the letter.
the ways of being
moral.
of what it is to
be.
to be.
i became acutely
nostalgic for the first few times we hung out,
(almost a year
ago now....)
the music, the
thoughts, the late nights.
the wonder.
the endless
river.
and i wonder what
happened.
i firmly believe
we don't live in one moment,
that we cannot
afford to hang onto one facet of a person.
i feel each
person is a liquid cosmos unto themselves,
a colourful world
of meaning, quest, fragility and knowledge
that ebbs, flows,
and shifts.
so i don't lament
on the interactions we have had since,
i merely wonder
whether our priorities are shifting
and whether the
alcohol shadowed nights are a habit?
or individually
have sincere meaning?
i don't expect
you to hold the answers or to grasp the meaning
of what i am
trying to articulate with my limited control of language.
i just hope that
we can be children together again,
without letting
the earnestness of adulthood bury our thoughts.
love.
