Friday, March 11, 2016

You Will Be Well

I actually spend some time each day going back, retracing steps, remembering old times, rereading old words. There is an empty place where that time was given to other things: to other people/someone else. It feels wrong to fill it in with anything else, but even if it were possible, trying to cram anything else in doesn't work. That hole just keeps spitting everything else out like an inverted blackhole.

Today, I went back to my old - much older - blog posts. As I've mentioned here a few times, these are hidden in my lucid iridescence blogs and some older tidbits where I used to post 'thoughts of the day' are hidden in my golden memories blogs. Each time I revisit, reread, I am so mesmerized by that person who is speaking - even though it was me.

I actually have a bad habit of never editing any of my blogs. I write whatever that comes to mind and other than the perfunctory skimming for spelling mistakes, if any, I just usually submit without further revisions.

Sometimes I feel like I would love to have an interview with myself. The younger me with this older, somewhat more cynical (though I averred I was the most cynical when younger) me. I have a lot of posts that are dedicated to love and I used to write a lot about this enigmatic prince charming/soulmate who I knew would be day. If I one day forgot this fact then maybe I would in future wonder who I was writing to, where did that person go. And the stranger thing now is that even with a flesh-and-blood model, the substantiated version of those dreams, I could almost ask the same thing. In fact, one of the problems I have with life is that I could pretty much ask this of everyone I've gotten close to. "Where did that person go?"

Maybe, just maybe, I could ask the question of that young and dreamy-eyed writer of posts. Maybe that is what I am doing when I go back and hover my cursor over the words she once wrote - sometimes with big grin, sometimes with a quiet smile, sometimes and too often, with a lot of tears. Maybe this version of me going over those words somehow, over a time-space continuum, actually makes contact with that younger girl who scribbled down words while tears coursed down her face; maybe while she was writing, she was able to compose herself and find a way to straighten her shoulders and face the world again because, if no one else did, this older me was able to peer over her shoulder, to caress her head, to tuck away a strand of hair tenderly, to kiss her tear-stained cheek and tell her, telepathically, that you will survive because you are my reason and remembrance for continuing ever more.


  1. As you would imagine this post speaks to me very much, moments before reading this, I was doing exactly this...reading old words and thinking about how I've changed since then. For myself these few years feel like ages, I can only begin to imagine how reading words from all those years you've been writing must be like. But having read your posts from all the way back then as well, this post feels close to me on more than one level.

    1. Posts like these remind me how fortunate I feel to have ever come across your words and you.

    2. I was writing a response to your first comment then got hit with your second which brought tears to my eyes (get outta here why you making me cry).

      I, obviously, had to think of you, too, when writing this. Going back to those posts, interspersed with your own random comments are one reason, but also because comparing me to a younger me summons up the dynamic of both you and I also. As you know, your adjustment into the world of words makes me so proud and yet---not really "proud" because it is something that is just "right". If anyone made a movie about you and omitted dancing trees I shall have to assassinate them.

    3. Yes! Even as I read you reflecting on your younger self, to some degree and in some moments, I was just imagining myself as your younger self.

      And they better include dancing trees, rain, and you :)

  2. Replies
    1. Thank you, GB, for your appreciation here and also in the past (when I wasn't in a state of mind to comment on comments).

  3. I started commenting but I'm completely lost where to start.
    But I'm going to say this that it is a very heart touching post, mostly because I can relate as much as wanderer would. Wait, she is still too young. Anyhow, it strikes a chord that left me numb. Sorry.

    Wait, posts about love? How come I saw very few? 😳🤔
    Links please. 😁

    1. Thanks AK as ever. And no need to apologize for allowing my words to affect you: that's a plus.

      and i am so not going to sift through 1500 posts and give you choice links - the jungle has always been there, go explore!