2004-06-23

Return

My life is wine, spring, and the gentle scent of white orchids that bloom in my tree.

I must take my leave next week in order to return home, and I know full well that I will have to leave again. The only reason why sadness cannot consume me at the current moment is because I walk on grounds that have not yet been imprinted with the echoes of my heart's gentle palpations. Grounds yet uncharted by me--the corners do not contain haunting memories of the instances accumulated in the years of my existence.

Fully aware that time does not forgive and mercilessly continues forward, I find that I have no other choice but to attempt to take pleasure in my own existence, which seems ephemeral in this perpetual universe that we reside in.

I only ramble and allow my hands to silently articulate the vignettes in my overcrowded mind, which has hitherto been the slave of an infinite number of fruitless musings pertaining to...oh, whatever it is that they pertain to.

It drizzled today, and the gravestones on the Georgetown campus took this distinct shade of dark gray, which I had hitherto not taken any notice in. Red brick buildings soaking in the raindrops, and leaves washing away the summer dust as they drink the sweet ambrosia offered to them by looming clouds of blackened silver...

My footsteps, damp and distant-sounding resonate with the cobblestones under my feet. I realize that I want my life back again, and slowly, it is returning. Carefree mornings filled with smiles and watching the steam dance out of my teacup, reading Potok and wanting so much to be like Asher Lev.

I want my life back, I want my soul back, I want my heart back.

aeka at 6:00 p.m.