Of times..!!

Have you ever put your hand in flour and played with it?? You feel the texture....and yet don't feel anything. You cant grasp the essence of it. I find writing about emotions very similar to that feeling. No matter how much i play with it and fiddle around...i can never seem to grasp the crux of it. Talking about it or wanting to write them down always makes me feel like I've not completed a story. Like something is loose and not neatly tied.

I want to talk about love and loneliness. About how i feel for him. There's something like wriggling in my heart when i think about him. When i think of times spent and memories made and days that are yet to be.

I cross streets, wait for trains, listen to silly announcements, eat popcorn, laugh on mad things with friends, get irritated and yell, i travel, i talk, i sing....the clutter called 'everyday'. The clutter is too great to dig out little little smiles from yesterday. Like putting your hand into your handbag and blindly looking for something...you find everything except what you're looking for. But then sometimes..without fiddling inside...some sounds, voices, laughter just come out and stand in front of you,you're surprised at the flash of a memory or discovery. Sometimes you forget that you kept a rose that he gave in your planner...to preserve the memory. There, in a flash...it comes to you as you search for mundane things. The stale fragrance, the faded color, stained page of the planner.

How do i live my day? Get past time that definitely isn't flying? This is how.