Sunday, June 22, 2014

Left empty.

Void: Where I am, gasping for air.

An empty space, a vacuum. Unoccupied, empty. Its exactly where I am now, gasping for air. In between a state of complete and utter emptiness and drastic aggressive silence. Voided, left empty. I gasp. Memories vigorously evoked, a series of dusty events. Empty, being unwillingly led down an old path, a complete void. I don’t want to go there. I close my eyes shut, imagine flowers I say. Remember the find-it-in-your-heart-to-forgive me bouquet. It erased everything, it made you happy.  Imagine her voice, tossing your entire world into her lap, I gasp. It made you happy. Imagine the shore, your big curls, tiny toes and the tingle of salt water. It made you happy. Imagine her scent, the way only she smells on a fine Friday afternoon. I take a deep breath; inhale the nothingness in the air. She made you happy. I picture all that and many more. Accompanied by so many familiar emotions, awakened. I didn’t resist, I gasped for the very last time. Moments evoked merely by memory, none by reality. In reality, I was here, in the void, left empty. The memories are inexistent in realities like mine, disowned, forcefully detached like they never were true. Maybe in another life, imaginary perhaps, it can’t be, it can’t be real. It can’t even be called a simple recollection of the past.

 It wasn’t, it can't be, was it? 

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Loss of precious little things.

Worth (n): 
An amount of something that has a specified value, that lasts for a specified length of time.
Usefulness, or importance.

Some things are worth more than others. Some people are too. No, not that way. Never materialistically, at least not here. Every “thing” here is of sentimental value, I’m speaking of that kind of importance, the important kind, the only kind that matters, the kind you can tell apart from all the other "things", an element that makes “things” stand out. It shows, most times its more obvious than ever, your worth. Most evident, in little "things" that are always meant for you. Directly. Individually. Only for you.

Things I would do, the times I would tell you, the other times I would put effort just to show you. You see?

Living in a messy world of mixed values and things of little-to-no sentimental importance. It’s a challenge for some to tell the difference, simple distinction, the ability to call something that of great sentimental value. Once you start paying attention to the little things, it gets clearer. It either exists or it doesn’t. It is either solely meant for you or just another common, overdone, constantly occurring gesture tossed in every other direction. 
That simple betrayal nips at my heart. It may not be considered betrayal at all. Just another gesture I thought much of and dismissed because of the absence of great sentimental value.

Look closely. Don't be tricked.